Thursday, December 29, 2005
Monday, December 26, 2005
Queenstown
Queenstown, the capital of cheap thrills, was our home for christmas. Anything remotely adventurous can be done here, for a small fee. The choice is bewildering. Bungy jumping originated here, but feels so last year. We weren't sure what to do to celebrate christmas, so we went gear shopping. After having suffered nearly three months of camping in a sleeping bag a few sizes too small, I splashed out on a nice new one made by Fairydown, a local outfit. We got chatting to a Brit working in the shop to fund his adventure racing, and he recommended doing the Routeburn Canyon and if that wasn't enough, to go for the so-called Canyon Swing. Bristol residents may be familiar with the popular - but illegal - rope swing off the Clifton suspension bridge. It's a bit like that, but bigger and badder.
The Boxing Day canyoning trip was most excellent, possibly the most fun event we've done in NZ. A series of jumps into waterfalls, abseils, ziplines and plain rock slides. Imagine a steeper version of Swildon's Hole, and take the roof off, and you're nearly there. Freezing water clean enough to drink. The start saw us walking across a foot bridge, and our guide pointing down to a small platform overlooking the waterfall. That's our insertion point. And far down there, the landing spot is just about visible. Or so it felt. A bunch of Japanese tourists tramping the Routeburn Track stopped to video us, as they do. I jumped first. You have to land on your arse, as the water is not quite so deep. After landing you swim over to a rigged rope and clip in, waiting for the rest. The rest of the trip was a sequence of jumps, some quite high, others less so, but with high precision landings required to fly through slots. A top day out. Our guides exhuded quiet competence, rather than the irritating 'surfer dude loudmouth attitude' that sadly seems to be spreading.
Christmas day saw us finally rigging the slackline on NZ soil to the amusement of most of the camp site. Two Aussie climbers had set camp next door. They were here on a mountaineering course, and were proficient enough to be able to slack with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other.
Today's event was the canyon swing. Two wires have been rigged to span the whole of the Shotover Canyon, and from this a contraption of climbing ropes are looped back to a narrow wooden platform. You step off this platform in a variety of ways and are treated to a 60m freefall into the canyon followed by a 200m arc, and speeds up to 150km/h. You have the choice of jump, some more weird than others. You can, for example, be duct-taped to a plastic chair and slowly lean backwards. Or hung upside down from your feet looking down. Stef opted for the 'pin drop': hands on your back, facing the direction of swing, and jump sideways out. Apparently, this gives a good 'ground rush'. They weren't wrong. I've done a few bungy jumps in the distant past, but this was scarier. My heart was pounding as I stepped out to the edge. Just one little jump to the side, but oh so hard. Suddenly the ground is approaching with an alarming speed. There is no jolt like a climbing fall or even a bungy jump, but a very gentle transition from fall to swing. As I am hoisted up, my bloodstream is awash with adrenaline, and it's on wobbly legs I walk back to the rest of the guys. Sarah's next.
Sarah was hestitant initially - she doesn't even like small jumps on the best of days. Yet here she is, strapped in, and actually smiling. She's doing the forward 'screem and flail' - and 'awesome achievement to make yourself jump', according to the company blurb. She looks back at me, and although she's still smiling, I know exactly what she's thinking: I don't want to! She looks over the edge, still hesitant for a moment, but then - with a scream - she's off. I say to the others that when she emerges again she will be wearing the biggest smile in the world and be wanting to have another go. Safe bet.
I've had enough, but Sarah wants more. She goes for the 'Elvis Cutaway', the king of all head rushes. She's suspended horizontally, face up, with her feet wrapped around the ropes infront of her. Arching her back backwards looking down, the jump master pulls the release cord, and down she goes, upside down through the arc for a few swings, before uncrossing her legs to release the rope to sit upright. Although visually more impressive, this was apparently easier, she said, as the jump moment is decided for you.
Today we're driving from Queenstown all the way up to Christchurch and tomorrow we'll be in Sydney.
The Boxing Day canyoning trip was most excellent, possibly the most fun event we've done in NZ. A series of jumps into waterfalls, abseils, ziplines and plain rock slides. Imagine a steeper version of Swildon's Hole, and take the roof off, and you're nearly there. Freezing water clean enough to drink. The start saw us walking across a foot bridge, and our guide pointing down to a small platform overlooking the waterfall. That's our insertion point. And far down there, the landing spot is just about visible. Or so it felt. A bunch of Japanese tourists tramping the Routeburn Track stopped to video us, as they do. I jumped first. You have to land on your arse, as the water is not quite so deep. After landing you swim over to a rigged rope and clip in, waiting for the rest. The rest of the trip was a sequence of jumps, some quite high, others less so, but with high precision landings required to fly through slots. A top day out. Our guides exhuded quiet competence, rather than the irritating 'surfer dude loudmouth attitude' that sadly seems to be spreading.
Christmas day saw us finally rigging the slackline on NZ soil to the amusement of most of the camp site. Two Aussie climbers had set camp next door. They were here on a mountaineering course, and were proficient enough to be able to slack with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other.
Today's event was the canyon swing. Two wires have been rigged to span the whole of the Shotover Canyon, and from this a contraption of climbing ropes are looped back to a narrow wooden platform. You step off this platform in a variety of ways and are treated to a 60m freefall into the canyon followed by a 200m arc, and speeds up to 150km/h. You have the choice of jump, some more weird than others. You can, for example, be duct-taped to a plastic chair and slowly lean backwards. Or hung upside down from your feet looking down. Stef opted for the 'pin drop': hands on your back, facing the direction of swing, and jump sideways out. Apparently, this gives a good 'ground rush'. They weren't wrong. I've done a few bungy jumps in the distant past, but this was scarier. My heart was pounding as I stepped out to the edge. Just one little jump to the side, but oh so hard. Suddenly the ground is approaching with an alarming speed. There is no jolt like a climbing fall or even a bungy jump, but a very gentle transition from fall to swing. As I am hoisted up, my bloodstream is awash with adrenaline, and it's on wobbly legs I walk back to the rest of the guys. Sarah's next.
Sarah was hestitant initially - she doesn't even like small jumps on the best of days. Yet here she is, strapped in, and actually smiling. She's doing the forward 'screem and flail' - and 'awesome achievement to make yourself jump', according to the company blurb. She looks back at me, and although she's still smiling, I know exactly what she's thinking: I don't want to! She looks over the edge, still hesitant for a moment, but then - with a scream - she's off. I say to the others that when she emerges again she will be wearing the biggest smile in the world and be wanting to have another go. Safe bet.
I've had enough, but Sarah wants more. She goes for the 'Elvis Cutaway', the king of all head rushes. She's suspended horizontally, face up, with her feet wrapped around the ropes infront of her. Arching her back backwards looking down, the jump master pulls the release cord, and down she goes, upside down through the arc for a few swings, before uncrossing her legs to release the rope to sit upright. Although visually more impressive, this was apparently easier, she said, as the jump moment is decided for you.
Today we're driving from Queenstown all the way up to Christchurch and tomorrow we'll be in Sydney.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Franz Josef glacier
We walked up to the face of the Franz Josef glacier, in the rain, needless to say. Quite spectacular, despite the weather, though.
Waterfall in Haas Pass
We found this waterfall on the side of the road on the way from Franz Josef to Queenstown.
Campsite cat
All respectable camp sites have their own little feline menace. This is one from Queenstown.
Castle Hill
Castle Hill from a distance. Looks amazing, doesn't it? Sadly, you need more time that what we had available to become accustomed to the rock here.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Castle Hill - Cancelled
I've gradually come to realise that Castle Hill is probably the only true world class venue that NZ has to offer for the rock climber. People told be this before I left, but it's only recently sunk in. We bombed it down the east coast from Kaikoura yesterday, turning left at Christchurch, and drove into the wilderness. The rocks come into view rather suddenly, not unlike the drive up to the Buttermilks. It just looked out of this world, and my fingers started to sweat in anticipation. It just looks amazing, but really hard to believe that these rock sculptures are actually lime stone. It looks more like Font sandstone, or even grit. Needless to say, the rain was chucking it down, so we turned the car around and drove back to the nearest village, Springfield - nothing to write home about, but still, a camp site for the night. Today the sun wasn't exactly shining either, but at least it was dry. We drove back, unloaded the boulder mat that hasn't seen any action since Bishop, and wandered up the hill.
There are so many rocks that navigation is very tricky, but we eventually managed to find our way to the spot we wanted to try. However, after not very long we deciced to leave, without even having unpacked the shoes. This place requires committment. The medium is too queer for any casual climbing. The rocks look like grit, but have less friction than ice. Add to the mix a general featurelessness, and a hight not far off that of the Buttermilks and you have it. To make anything out of this place would require weeks, not a day and a half. We quickly decide to instead spend the rest of the NZ time to see a bit more and sack the climbing.
So, we drive instead the other way across Arthur's Pass to the west coast and turn south. We're now in Franz Josef on the way to Milford Sound, Queenstown and back to Christchurch via Dunedin.
Disappointed? Not really. No climbing, essentially, on these rainy shores, but nothing would ever be able to match the US leg in that regard. Now, bring on some bungy in Queenstown.
There are so many rocks that navigation is very tricky, but we eventually managed to find our way to the spot we wanted to try. However, after not very long we deciced to leave, without even having unpacked the shoes. This place requires committment. The medium is too queer for any casual climbing. The rocks look like grit, but have less friction than ice. Add to the mix a general featurelessness, and a hight not far off that of the Buttermilks and you have it. To make anything out of this place would require weeks, not a day and a half. We quickly decide to instead spend the rest of the NZ time to see a bit more and sack the climbing.
So, we drive instead the other way across Arthur's Pass to the west coast and turn south. We're now in Franz Josef on the way to Milford Sound, Queenstown and back to Christchurch via Dunedin.
Disappointed? Not really. No climbing, essentially, on these rainy shores, but nothing would ever be able to match the US leg in that regard. Now, bring on some bungy in Queenstown.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Rate my whale tail
When seeing this, it's hard to imagine that 28 nations are still whaling actively around the world.
Shame on them.
Shame on them.
Dolphins summersaulting
This fellow did a sequence of four summersaults. Obviously trying to impress..
Kaikoura
We're in Kaikoura, the self-styled capital of the Crayfish. They obviously haven't been to Sweden in October.. This is a nice, laid-back place, and the weather is marginally better here on the east coast, slap bang in the middle of the 'rain shadow' from the spine of mountains that runs the length of the south island. We did stop at a vineyard or two on the way past Marlbourough. Rude not to. The main reason for people stopping in Kaikoura is the fact that a deep sea trench comes very close to the coast, leading to large numbers of whales, dolphins and other marine mammals (plus a dazzling array of sharks, apparently) coming close to land to feed and rear their young - and to entertain the tourists. So confident are they that you get your money back if you don't get to see a whale on your trip. We decided to put them to the test.
The boat trip is two hours, on a modern catamaran. The word on the street is that there are loads of whales seen from earlier trips, and the atmosphere is expectant. After about 15 minutes we come across the first sperm whale idling lazily, hovering on the surface for 5-10 minutes, just breathing, preparing for its next dive. Apparently, they can dive to more than three kilometres, and stay under for more than two hours. The sight is mesmerising. Suddenly it arches its back, takes one final breath, sticks its tail in the air, waving goodbye before vanishing into the deep. Straight out of the Greenpeace posters of my youth.
Our guide tells us that all Kaikoura sperm whales are male. And frustrated. Apparently, the females won't let anyone less than 45 years of age anywhere near, so this is one giant bachelor party. Or the longest cold bath in history.
We move on, and in the process almost crash into one surfacing beast, totally non-plussed about our presence. The ocean is boiling with whales, it seems. Although on reflection it was only four more, but we're all grinning from ear to ear. We move closer to shore, and see several dolphins, but the guide says that there's no point hanging around for only a handful - we want to see HUNDREDS of dolphins. And suddenly...
They're everywhere - in front, behind, on both sides, jumping, summersaulting, ducking, diving, showing off. A pod of perhaps 200 individuals have temporarily made their home in the bay, with lots of babies.
Sarah took a few video shorts of the events. The quality is dubious due to the still camera used, and the fact that she was also busy watching, rather than concentrating on the filming..
[Videos removed due to hosting issues]
The boat trip is two hours, on a modern catamaran. The word on the street is that there are loads of whales seen from earlier trips, and the atmosphere is expectant. After about 15 minutes we come across the first sperm whale idling lazily, hovering on the surface for 5-10 minutes, just breathing, preparing for its next dive. Apparently, they can dive to more than three kilometres, and stay under for more than two hours. The sight is mesmerising. Suddenly it arches its back, takes one final breath, sticks its tail in the air, waving goodbye before vanishing into the deep. Straight out of the Greenpeace posters of my youth.
Our guide tells us that all Kaikoura sperm whales are male. And frustrated. Apparently, the females won't let anyone less than 45 years of age anywhere near, so this is one giant bachelor party. Or the longest cold bath in history.
We move on, and in the process almost crash into one surfacing beast, totally non-plussed about our presence. The ocean is boiling with whales, it seems. Although on reflection it was only four more, but we're all grinning from ear to ear. We move closer to shore, and see several dolphins, but the guide says that there's no point hanging around for only a handful - we want to see HUNDREDS of dolphins. And suddenly...
They're everywhere - in front, behind, on both sides, jumping, summersaulting, ducking, diving, showing off. A pod of perhaps 200 individuals have temporarily made their home in the bay, with lots of babies.
Sarah took a few video shorts of the events. The quality is dubious due to the still camera used, and the fact that she was also busy watching, rather than concentrating on the filming..
[Videos removed due to hosting issues]
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Kayak sailing
We even tried some kayak sailing, which was a relief for our tired shoulders towards the end of the day
Our kayaks
Sarah checking out the gear. The weather is looking threatening, but it actually turned out nice in the end. A minor miracle.
Sarah kayaking like a pro
The Abel Tasman coast is a mecca for sea kayaking, its many secluded coves and remote beaches only accessible by kayak
Seal
There are loads of seals in the Abel Tasman, and they don't seem to mind kayaks either. They do stink, though.
Sea Kayaking in Abel Tasman National Park
What a fantastic day. This has to be up there with one of the best days of the trip so far. We woke to sunshine and knew it was going to be a good day. We were picked up from the campsite at 8am. However, on the way to Sandy Bay where we would take the water taxi the weather closed in and it started to rain. We had decided to do the Big Tonga Marine Reserve Tour. It started with a scenic water taxi ride to Onetahuti Beach in the centre of Tonga Island Marine Reserve. By the time we'd had a quick introduction to kayaking and how to paddle properly the sun was peaking through the clouds and things were looking up. There were 6 of us in the group and our guide Cliff. Firstly we headed further up the coast to Shag Harbour. A small inlet that you can only enter at high tide. Fortunately today was a particularly high high tide. On the way we saw seal after seal. They are so intriguing to watch. They seem non-plussed by the kayaks. Some lie on the rocks wondering why you are looking at them. Others are playing in the water and come right next to your kayak. In the harbour Cliff told us there was a little stream at the back that we should go and look at. It was a tight squeeze between the rocky sides. We had to reverse the kayak out. Where this little stream ran into the harbour was a little pool with a seal and her pup. There were a few young pups around. Apparently they have only started coming out the last few days as they are only a couple of weeks old. We then paddled back down the coast and across to Tonga Island. This is a marine reserve so you have to stay 20 meters away from the shore. Again, there were many seals particularly in 'The Nursery'. We then had to kayak across open water during which we saw a little blue penguin. We reached a point around which was Mosquito Bay. A little cove that can only be reached by kayak. We were given a plentiful lunch and swam in the sea. Refreshing but not quite as cold as the Baltic. Whilst sitting on the sands tucking into my blueberry muffin someone shouts and points out to sea. There's a pod of at least 12 dolphins swimming past. The tide is going out fast now and this cove empties during low tide. Our kayaks are becoming further and further from the water. With slightly sore shoulders and sore bums we don our skirts and life jackets and head out again. The afertnoon's kayaking proves to be much shorter and easier. We paddle along the shore line dotted with many beautiful sandy coves that can only be reached by foot or boat. Finally we head in to Anchorage Bay. With the wind in our tails we join the kayaks together, open up a sail and cruise into the beach. Another taxi ride brings is back to where we started with the sun shining.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Horses and seals
Well, it's still raining but that's all I'll say about the weather. We went to Farewell Spit yesterday to go on a 3 hour horse trek. On the way there the weather brightened up and we actually set off in the sunshine. The first part of the trek was along a gravel track and wasn't particularly inspiring but then after about 20 minutes we headed off through a gate and up a hill and the views of the surrounding country side were spectacular. Once we reached the beach those that wanted to could gallop the full length. Being trekking ponies they were surprisingly feisty and keen to race. Others, mentioning no names, welcomed the opportunity to be out of the saddle for a while. Seals dotted the beach and a couple were fighting it out in the shallows. We were told not to get between them and the water. Although the sunshine didn't last too long it was a fantastic trip out. Unfortunately for Stef I think he found the pain of the saddle a little too overwhelming. Upon returning to yard he was sent to the toilets with a cream to help 'relieve' the pain. He later informed me that he decided not to use a strange cream given to him by an unknown lady :) Tomorrow we're kayaking around a small part of the Abel Tasman coast and then to Kaikoura for some whale watching.
Golden Bay
Golden Bay is a scenic part of NZ, up in the north-western corner of the South Island. The aim was to climb at Payne's Ford, but having evidently insulted the weather gods, we totalled a measly 6 routes between showers, 'peaking' at grade 22 (Yep, yet another grade scale). The crag itself is a sort of Shorn Cliff on stereoids. The camping was at the self-styled world renowned climbers site Hangdog two minutes walk away. We snapped an unsnappable Euston T9 alloy pole to our tent. Hurrah. Sarah managed to charm the local engineer to donate some 8mm alu tubing that made for an excellent emergency fix in conjunction with the indispensible, but shrinking, roll of Gaffer tape.
Takeka is a bit like Bishop, a nice hangout for the countless wet days. A sort of hippie drop-out zone, it's rich in organic, GM-free, vegetarian, sandals-only caffs and shops that sell crystals and homeopathic remedies to go with your broadband access. Sarah convinced me to come for a 3h horse riding trek down to a secluded beach, seals guaranteed. I mean, how hard can it be?
Hard. All the girls (needless to say, I was the only male. Well, me and the six horses), laughed knowingly when I tried to get up in the saddle. I let the side down. My horse didn't want to go in the direction I wanted it to. After three hours in the saddle, squashing my erm, happy sack, I've rarely been in such pain. But the beach was nice.
We retreated to the most excellent Mussle Inn for some beers (Golden Goose Lager, brewed in-house) and a massive steak, and listen to the Golden Bay Poetry Society's weekly reading.
Takeka is a bit like Bishop, a nice hangout for the countless wet days. A sort of hippie drop-out zone, it's rich in organic, GM-free, vegetarian, sandals-only caffs and shops that sell crystals and homeopathic remedies to go with your broadband access. Sarah convinced me to come for a 3h horse riding trek down to a secluded beach, seals guaranteed. I mean, how hard can it be?
Hard. All the girls (needless to say, I was the only male. Well, me and the six horses), laughed knowingly when I tried to get up in the saddle. I let the side down. My horse didn't want to go in the direction I wanted it to. After three hours in the saddle, squashing my erm, happy sack, I've rarely been in such pain. But the beach was nice.
We retreated to the most excellent Mussle Inn for some beers (Golden Goose Lager, brewed in-house) and a massive steak, and listen to the Golden Bay Poetry Society's weekly reading.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Silver fern
The silver fern is the emblem of New Zealand and the unfurling new branch is often found depicted in Maori carvings.
It always rains in...
...New Zealand. I swear I'll never complain about the weather at home again. It's rained every day since we arrived. And when it rains, it pours. After Bryce's place we went to Rotarua and camped just outside the town. It rained for most of the night but in the morning there was a thunderstorm and it rained even more. Unbeknowingly, we had pitched the tent in a very shallow dip which filled with water and in turn flooded out tent. The water actually came over the 'bath tub bottom'. We managed to get everything out and into the car. We were just grateful it didn't happen whilst we were asleep. Whilst in Rotarua we white water rafted on the Kaituna River. It contains the highest waterfall that is commercially rafted (7m). It was fun and the boat managed to stay upright all the way down. We also went to Wai-o-tapu, a geothermal wonderland. It rained. We sat it out in the cafe for a while hoping it would pass. The sunshine showed itself briefly and being optimistic we headed off on the 75 minute walk around the park. It didn't last but even a very wet wonderland was worth seeing. If very smelly. Then we did the long slog south to Wellington (late saturday afternoon) to catch the ferry to Picton on sunday morning. On arrival we headed up to Abel Tasman National Park via a few vineyards. We enjoyed tasting the local produce just a shame we had to constrain ourselves as we were driving. We did treat ourselves to a couple of nice bottles for a slightly larger tipple later. We arrived in Motueka last night and decided to camp here. We were strongly recommended not to do the rest of the journey to Takaka given the weather as it was getting dark and apparently it's a very windy road. We'd already passed a car that had gone off the edge of the road down the mountainside with its occupants being rescued. We pitched the tent - in the rain. Can you tell there's a theme to this part of the trip?! We were sitting in the kitchen area watching the deluge as the owner went by. I asked, half in jest, how much was a standard cabin. For another $12 I have to confess we bailed on the camping and treated ourselves to a night in a dry room with a bed. I had such a good nights sleep. We've even decided to stay another night.
Unfortunately NZ is not smiling on us. We've done our best to partake in water-based activities where the weather matters less. However, here there is supposed to be some superb sea kayaking but it's not too appealing in the rain. Slightly frustrating. Despite the weather I like what I've seen so far and especially the people we've met. Must be a good place if you can have a good time in this weather.
Unfortunately NZ is not smiling on us. We've done our best to partake in water-based activities where the weather matters less. However, here there is supposed to be some superb sea kayaking but it's not too appealing in the rain. Slightly frustrating. Despite the weather I like what I've seen so far and especially the people we've met. Must be a good place if you can have a good time in this weather.
Wet Down Under
So, 12 days of rain puts a strain on the most intrepid hard-core camper. Last night, watching the deluge something broke inside, and we forked out the extra $12 that gave us a cabin, rather than our moist tent for the night. Ironically, they'd had no rain for weeks here on the northern end of the South island until we arrived. We're obviously travelling in the same direction as the prevailing weather systems. Rotorua saw us hurtling down the Kaituna river in search of cheap thrills. Fun it was, too, dropping 7m in a rubber dinghy and 14 rapids to follow. Six hundred kilometres of driving, bisected by a (very wet) stop at the thermal pools of Wai-o-tapu, saw us in a dodgy backpacker's in central Wellington. Once across the Cook Strait, the sun actually shines in Picton as we drive through NZ's wine country. We stop at a few choice 'cellar doors' for fine samples and walk out with a few pricy bottles. This is the capital of Sauvignon Blanc, but we settle for an apparently oh-so trendy reserve Pinot-Gris, which, we learn, is a common mutation of the Pinot-Noir grape, and a somewhat less trendy Chardonnay, oaked and all. NZ whites are truly world-class. At Mud House we also tried their 'methode traditionelle', a champagne analogue that would hold its own against its French brethren. Actually, the guy who runs the vinyard is French, the son of an eighth-generation Champagne maker. Once we reached our intended destination it started bucketing it down in true style.
New Zealand is undoubtedly one of the prettiest countries on earth, a sort of blend of the Scottish highlands, the alps, the Norwegian fiords with an element of South Pacific tropics in places. Driving down the Desert Highway (SH1) to Wellington felt almost like the drive from Bishop to LA - snow-capped, cloud-covered peaks, and a real desert landscape.
If it wasn't for this unmentionable weather. The woman who owns the Subsurface dive shop at Beachcomber, Fiji is a Kiwi. When I asked her why she left NZ the answer was that she couldn't stand the weather. I can see where she's coming from. I've resigned myself to the fact that we're unlikely to climb much here. We'll head for Payne's Ford tomorrow in a vain hope that the sun will make a brief appearence, but I suspect we'll mostly kayak or snorkel in the rain. After that the tentative plans are Kaikoura, Christchurch and Castle Hill for some bouldering. At least the weather in the Castle Hill basin is rumoured to be more stable.
I'll believe it when I see it.
New Zealand is undoubtedly one of the prettiest countries on earth, a sort of blend of the Scottish highlands, the alps, the Norwegian fiords with an element of South Pacific tropics in places. Driving down the Desert Highway (SH1) to Wellington felt almost like the drive from Bishop to LA - snow-capped, cloud-covered peaks, and a real desert landscape.
If it wasn't for this unmentionable weather. The woman who owns the Subsurface dive shop at Beachcomber, Fiji is a Kiwi. When I asked her why she left NZ the answer was that she couldn't stand the weather. I can see where she's coming from. I've resigned myself to the fact that we're unlikely to climb much here. We'll head for Payne's Ford tomorrow in a vain hope that the sun will make a brief appearence, but I suspect we'll mostly kayak or snorkel in the rain. After that the tentative plans are Kaikoura, Christchurch and Castle Hill for some bouldering. At least the weather in the Castle Hill basin is rumoured to be more stable.
I'll believe it when I see it.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
NZ
When the Maoris arrived on these shores in a canoe many centuries ago, they named the place 'New Zealand', which means 'Land of constant rainfall, and then some', and they weren't kidding. It rains here, all the time, which makes camping a right barrel of laughs. Saying that, camp sites here are pretty well equipped with full indoor kitchen facilities and gas BBQs. As the weather is not conducive to climbing, we've mainly been doing other things: seeing the beautiful Coromandel peninsula, 'learning' to surf at the (apparently) world class breaks at Raglan - Sarah's a natural at catching waves, used to it as she is from representing Bristol Uni at competitive surfing. I'm more of a natural at falling off them, eating sea water. I definitely would like to try it again, perhaps when we reach the more temperate waters of Oz. We also did some 'black water rafting' in the glowworm caves at Waitomo, which turned out to be a bit of a disappointment for anyone who's done any caving in the UK: pitched as a white-knuckle ride, it was more a sedate experience, even if the glowworm milky way was absolutely astounding. We've now arrived at Warepapa South, and actually managed to get some climbing in yesterday afternoon, dodging the showers. Curiously, the crag we went to is called 'Froggatt Edge', not unlike another rock climbing place of worship closer to home. I'm writing this in Bryce's Place, a top-notch gear shop slap bang in the middle of nowhere, a pretty cool place. The proprietor, Bryce Martin, is a walking dictionary of NZ climbing, and the coffee is pretty decent, too.
This morning dawned with a deluge (again), so we're probably moving on to Rotorua after breakfast for some rafting on the Kaituna river (grade V whatever that means) - at least it shouldn't matter with some rain.
This morning dawned with a deluge (again), so we're probably moving on to Rotorua after breakfast for some rafting on the Kaituna river (grade V whatever that means) - at least it shouldn't matter with some rain.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
The tower at night
The highest structure in the southern hemisphere, long shutter time and unsteady hands. You can do 'wired base jumps' from it. So much to do, so little time.
The rudder
As you can see, the rudder stock is completely bust. The crew speculated that we must have hit something, but this seems strange in the middle of one of the busiest harbours in NZ. Besides, nothing touched the keel.
Whale? Russian Sub?
Whale? Russian Sub?
Stef at the helm
Stef at the helm of NZL40. A few minutes later, this America's Cup yacht lost its rudder. On my watch..
Nacula, just opening the door
This is the view from our beach hut at Oarsman's Bay, Nacula. On non-diving days, our day consisted mainly of moving from the bed over to the hammock. The water was crystal clear, and over to the left of the picture you can just about make out the local coral reef which offered excellent snorkelling straight off the beach.
A Trigger Fish Encounter
So, Fiji. Is gorgeous. I think Stef's just about covered our time there but we had 5 days up in the Yasawa islands. Our accommodation is great and is owned by the chief of the neighbouring village. All the staff are from there too. Most of them have never been off the island or had a job before so it's quite an interesting challenge that the english/new zealand couple are facing who have been brought in to manage it. But the Fijians are friendly and doing a great job. After that we head to Beachomber island which is an entirely different place. I think it's been running for about 25 years and it is an efficient well run resort. We'd heard mixed reports about the atmospere here but we had a great time. The accommodation was lovely and the buffet, all you can eat food even better. We dived nearly every day so we were off the island alot of the time but in the evening there's a band in the bar and partying to be had but not as crazy as we had been told. All was good except I was made to feel exceptionally old and there was some hideous flirting going on in the dinner queue :) Anyway, the main thing I wanted to write about in this post was our last days diving. It was awesome. This might sound odd but I've never been sure if I really enjoy diving. I enjoy the experience it gives me and the opportunity to see so much sealife but perhaps because each time I dive it's always been so long since the last time I always feel slightly nervous and uncomfortable. This time, we've had the opportunity to do quite a few more dives and I started to feel really relaxed and no longer the most inexperienced person on the dive. I've started to really enjoy diving. However, I think this last dive was the most adventourous dive I've ever done. It was called the Supermarket and is a dive where you're expected to see sharks. So, we descend in the water. I'd commented to our dive master that I've never seen a trigger fish so if he sees one can he point it out to me. First thing we see are two trigger fish, coming straight for us. One decides to take a big bite on Geoff's fin. This is quite unnerving. They've a reputation for being quite aggressive when it's their breeding season to protect their eggs. It's officially their breeding season and there turns out to be alot of trigger fish. Wish I'd never asked to see one! Another one has a particular issue with our instructor but once we've run the gauntlet of the trigger fish we reach a depth of about 26 metres and we finally see a shark. And another. And another. And another. There were at least 8. We saw black tip, white tip and a silver tip which was the biggest and well over 2 metres long. We've all been slightly anxious and pulling on our air a bit more than usual so we sadly have to surface but watching the sharks swimming around was amazing. They look so graceful in the water. It's certainly up there with the more memorable dives I've ever done.
Wet feet
I'm currently sitting in this internet cafe with very wet feet. Why? Well today's plan was to sail on one of the America's cup boats around Auckland harbour for a couple of hours and then come and write a few emails before leaving Auckland tomorrow. However, there was a small problem whilst out on the boat which is why I have very wet feet. No doubt you'll get two accounts of this tale. One from a pundit who knows nothing about sailing. The other from someone who's more authoratative on the whole matter. So, we head out of the harbour under engine power and once outside the harbour we stop and winch up the sails. Grinding proves quite hard work for the arms but the boat looks specatular. You all take turns to help crew the boat. We're sailing with the wind for a while and then we apparantly do a jibe turn and then yours truly is asked if she'd like to have a go at steering. All's going well. I comment to Stef that's it's not quite as exciting as I thought it was going to be. The boat is going a steady 12 knots and the boat is flat in the water. Everyone gets a go at steering so Stef takes over. The boat starts to tilt. Quite alot. We're not going any faster but it feels it and this is more like what I thought a sailing boat would feel like. Then there's a big bang. All's calm for about 30 seconds. Then a slightly alarmed crew member looks at another and asks, "Did we just lose our rudder?" Looking back and seeing it floating in the water I'd say the answer is yes. Stef is rugby tackled out the way and I soon learn that having no steering on such a boat ain't that much fun. We're steering just with the sails and the boat starts tilting even more so lots of water is coming over the side. Hence the wet feet. It fleetingly crosses my mind whether this could be a problem and I reassuringly feel my life vest. The water soon flows off the back of the boat. Nearly taking a few French passengers with it. That'll teach 'em to be laying casually at the back rather than partaking in the hard work up front :) Anyway, it all feels a bit chaotic for a while as the boat is turning one way then the other until they manage to stall the boat enough to drop the main sail, wrap up the front sail and set anchor. A passing policeman is flagged down who pulls up along side. The captain explains our predicament to which he responds "Excellent, well you're all getting your monies worth". Two rescue boats eventually arrive to take us back to shore. You might be mistaken for thinking the day's excitement was over. However, we happen to get on the "rescue" boat that is being driven by an adrenalin junky. Who asks "Are you guys in a hurry? Let's go and do some wake riding" This proves to be *alot* of fun!! So most of us return with a smile on our faces ready for a nice cold beer. A few others didn't enjoy the experience quite so much. Unfortunately one lady had a nasty cut to hear head and it turns out the french contingent had brought a bag on board with all their tickets, passports etc. in which, you guessed it, got washed out the back of the boat and is probably somewhere on the bottom of the harbour. Not sure how they'll be getting home. Being New Zealand the crew took it all in their stride and were excellent.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Fiji
So. They have email in Fiji, too.
Anyway -- handing back the car in the states went without incident. Funny what a little spit and polish can do. At Nadi airport we were greeted by a band, singing traditional Fijian welcome tunes. Not bad for 5am. We managed to work our way through customs -- they're hot on stopping agricultural imports, and this apparently includes used tents. We swore we'd just washed ours (a small lie) and that we're only leaving it at the airport left luggage anyway (the truth), and they refrained from unpacking all our gear. Which was nice. Sarah had to bin her carefully managed stash of teabags, much to her annoyance.
We picked up the 'Yasawa Flyer' at the port of Denaru after a short bus transfer. The heat was sweltering, and the humidity akin to sitting in a shower. The sea air was better, even if the sun was still beating down. At least we had some heavy-duty sun-cream. The boat stopped at some of the little islets and resorts firstly up the Mamanucas chain and onwards up the Yasawas. The party people stepped off on the former. Our stop was the last, Oarsman's Bay on the island of Nacula, a sort of post-card paradise, with endless palm-fringed, white beaches lapped by a turquoise sea. As we waded ashore, we suddenly thought of the cold winter weather currently residing over England, nay make that most of Europe.
Oarsman's is an 'upper end low budget' resort, and it fitted our bill perfectly. It only holds about 30 people and people come and go every day. We had our own beach-front room, cooled by a fan and with running hot and cold water. Food was mostly OK, with all guests eating together, and we were thankfully freed of the burden of having to choose from a menu. We did four dives with Westside Watersports on a neighbouring island. They were great to dive with, but unfortunately much of the coral is dead in these areas. Why this is is a matter of debate. Some blame the rising sea temperatures due to global warming, and some blame the locals' propensity for fishing with sticks of dynamite. Probably a combination. We also did some snorkelling around our own island, where some reef sharks came out to play. One learns lessons on these outings. Your snorkelling guide wears a t-shirt for a reason. Even if it's overcast, the sun flays the backs of the unwary snorkeller.
The days at Oarman's blur into one, and after five nights we again board the Flyer bound for Beachcomber resort in the Mamanuca chain. The diving here is reputedly most excellent, and the dive operation is well respected. Sarah's a bit uneasy about Beachcomber's reputation as a 24-h party people place, but financially it's the most viable one for us. As we disembark, we realise that we have indeed stepped through a time-warp and ended up back at university Fresher's Week. Ah well. Our room's nice, and the food's even better. The party is there for those that want it. We've decided to do our Andvanced Open Water Diver qualification, as it's only five dives, and we'd do that anyway. Some theory work completes the university illusion.
The dive operation here, Subsurface, is excellently equipped, even if the atmosphere is a tad on the laddy side. The dive masters obviously appreciate the young, nubile single women that pass through. Every day. Perks of the job, I guess. For the AOWD you have to do 5 'adventure' dives, two of which are compulsory (Navigation and Deep). We also did a wreck dive, a 'naturalist' dive (look at all the fishies!) and -- Sarah's fave -- the Night Dive (more sharks. They're the ones with green eyes). Tomorrow we're doing the Supermarket, a shark appreciation dive, and some other pretty reef. Once our Nitro levels have receeded, we board a plane for Auckland, NZ.
Anyway -- handing back the car in the states went without incident. Funny what a little spit and polish can do. At Nadi airport we were greeted by a band, singing traditional Fijian welcome tunes. Not bad for 5am. We managed to work our way through customs -- they're hot on stopping agricultural imports, and this apparently includes used tents. We swore we'd just washed ours (a small lie) and that we're only leaving it at the airport left luggage anyway (the truth), and they refrained from unpacking all our gear. Which was nice. Sarah had to bin her carefully managed stash of teabags, much to her annoyance.
We picked up the 'Yasawa Flyer' at the port of Denaru after a short bus transfer. The heat was sweltering, and the humidity akin to sitting in a shower. The sea air was better, even if the sun was still beating down. At least we had some heavy-duty sun-cream. The boat stopped at some of the little islets and resorts firstly up the Mamanucas chain and onwards up the Yasawas. The party people stepped off on the former. Our stop was the last, Oarsman's Bay on the island of Nacula, a sort of post-card paradise, with endless palm-fringed, white beaches lapped by a turquoise sea. As we waded ashore, we suddenly thought of the cold winter weather currently residing over England, nay make that most of Europe.
Oarsman's is an 'upper end low budget' resort, and it fitted our bill perfectly. It only holds about 30 people and people come and go every day. We had our own beach-front room, cooled by a fan and with running hot and cold water. Food was mostly OK, with all guests eating together, and we were thankfully freed of the burden of having to choose from a menu. We did four dives with Westside Watersports on a neighbouring island. They were great to dive with, but unfortunately much of the coral is dead in these areas. Why this is is a matter of debate. Some blame the rising sea temperatures due to global warming, and some blame the locals' propensity for fishing with sticks of dynamite. Probably a combination. We also did some snorkelling around our own island, where some reef sharks came out to play. One learns lessons on these outings. Your snorkelling guide wears a t-shirt for a reason. Even if it's overcast, the sun flays the backs of the unwary snorkeller.
The days at Oarman's blur into one, and after five nights we again board the Flyer bound for Beachcomber resort in the Mamanuca chain. The diving here is reputedly most excellent, and the dive operation is well respected. Sarah's a bit uneasy about Beachcomber's reputation as a 24-h party people place, but financially it's the most viable one for us. As we disembark, we realise that we have indeed stepped through a time-warp and ended up back at university Fresher's Week. Ah well. Our room's nice, and the food's even better. The party is there for those that want it. We've decided to do our Andvanced Open Water Diver qualification, as it's only five dives, and we'd do that anyway. Some theory work completes the university illusion.
The dive operation here, Subsurface, is excellently equipped, even if the atmosphere is a tad on the laddy side. The dive masters obviously appreciate the young, nubile single women that pass through. Every day. Perks of the job, I guess. For the AOWD you have to do 5 'adventure' dives, two of which are compulsory (Navigation and Deep). We also did a wreck dive, a 'naturalist' dive (look at all the fishies!) and -- Sarah's fave -- the Night Dive (more sharks. They're the ones with green eyes). Tomorrow we're doing the Supermarket, a shark appreciation dive, and some other pretty reef. Once our Nitro levels have receeded, we board a plane for Auckland, NZ.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Bruno at the Happies
The rock at the Happy boulders is a different beast altogether. Pocketed, heavily featured and yielding to a gymnastic, powerful approach only. Pictured are Bruno's fingers of steel.
Sarah in the magic bristlecone pine forest
Sarah leaning against a millennia old bristlecone pine, at 10,000ft in the White Montains
Stef on Golden Boy, V4
"Golden Boy" was the hardest problem I did, not in terms of grade (Fuelled By Hate, V6), but in terms of the effort it took to complete. The small pocket my right hand's in felt lined by shards of glass, ripping my fingers each time I came off. The problem has the so called porcelain patina, making it feel like polished glass, and about as easy to get the feet to stick to.
Sarah on the final slap of the Iron Man Traverse
Sarah in the fading light (almost) sticking the slap at the end of the Iron Man Traverse. She unfortunately didn't have the time to complete the whole thing in one this time around, but has vowed to return.
Sarah at the top of The Hunk
Sarah smiling on top of The Hunk, V2. Rather scary technical little number, and a fine achievement. One of the best, most memorable problems at the Buttermilks, in my book.
Farewell Bishop
Last day's bouldering behind us; tomorrow we're driving to LA and catching a flight to Fiji. Bruno and Jen headed off yesterday. They're spending another six weeks or so in the states, and they managed to get given a car (!) by a Scottish guy who's been here for a year, and was just about to head back to work in Glasgow. The bouldering's been fabulous, but Fiji's looking like an attractive option; tips are trashed, arms sore, feet smelly. Sarah finished on a high today, sending The Rising (V4), a formidable achievement. I was pleased yesterday to finally get Golden Boy (V4) which previously had seemed utterly impossible. That left me with 24 out of the 26 denoted classics off the guide successfully ticked. The remaining two will have to wait until next time, as I'm sure we'll be back. Many people we've met here are heading off to Hueco Tanks, in Texas. Hueco is potentially the best bouldering area in the states, but has been dogged by access issues as the rocks have been viewed as sacred by long gone Indian tribes, and cave paintings abound.
We're left with packing up and gorging ourselves with one last slap-up meal at Whiskey Creak--if only we'd known about the half-price happy hour earlier.. oh, and tomorrow before leaving, we'll have to wash our hire car. It's seen some remarkable abuse, and although we have a zero excess contract, a few dollars spent on some shine might give us less grief, at least. American cars have the road handling of a water bed.
Depending on the internet facilities in Fiji, there may well be a longish outage while we disappear under the radar until the beginning of December when we'll resurface in Auckland.
We're left with packing up and gorging ourselves with one last slap-up meal at Whiskey Creak--if only we'd known about the half-price happy hour earlier.. oh, and tomorrow before leaving, we'll have to wash our hire car. It's seen some remarkable abuse, and although we have a zero excess contract, a few dollars spent on some shine might give us less grief, at least. American cars have the road handling of a water bed.
Depending on the internet facilities in Fiji, there may well be a longish outage while we disappear under the radar until the beginning of December when we'll resurface in Auckland.
Books
This is a bit of a random post, more for my interest than anyone else's but I bought a couple of new books today (The Memoirs of a Geisha and Wild Swans) and decided I want to keep a record of what I have read on this trip. I'm a very slow reader so it won't be many. So far I have read The Seventh Scroll by Wilbur Smith. Very good but not as good as the preceding book River God which must be read first. I'm now reading The Noble House by James Clavell, a 1400 page monster so it might be a while before another such post.
Also, I bought a new pair of climbing shoes whilst in Bishop. In 2 weeks they have delaminated and then yesterday the material ripped at the heel. They have kindly replaced them with a new pair but I had to have a different model in a fetching baby blue. Probably worked out quite well as the rubber had taken a fair battering on the rock out here.
On a final note, duct tape...is awesome. Fixes everything from down jackets to bouldering mats and is a must take on any trip.
Also, I bought a new pair of climbing shoes whilst in Bishop. In 2 weeks they have delaminated and then yesterday the material ripped at the heel. They have kindly replaced them with a new pair but I had to have a different model in a fetching baby blue. Probably worked out quite well as the rubber had taken a fair battering on the rock out here.
On a final note, duct tape...is awesome. Fixes everything from down jackets to bouldering mats and is a must take on any trip.
Monday, November 14, 2005
All good things..
So the American leg is rapidly approaching its end; in a week's time the pacific ocean will be gently lapping our feet as we wander off into the sunset on a Fijian beach paradise :)
America has treated us well, and our credit cards have treated Wilson's Eastside Mountain Sports very well indeed. Shipped home my trad rack today, and invested in some more quick draws. It'll be sport climbing and bouldering only from now on. Me and Sarah also shipped home a large box with the majority of our clothing. Six weeks of on the road experience shows that you really don't need all that much. 8 pairs of socks? Haven't worn socks yet, as my sun-stencilled feet will testify. I could feature in a Chaco advert, for sure.
Bishop's been a 'way cool' place to hang out, and it's rapidly filling up with climbers and skiers -- Mammouth mountain opened for the season about a week ago, which seems a little bit weird from where we're sitting. Although nights are cold, and the peaks are snow-capped, days are still hotter than the Med in the summer.
The bouldering has gone better than expected, and I only wish I'd had another month to apply the new-found confidence and strength. We'll see if the improvements will hold once we hit the next bouldeing mecca in a few weeks, Castle Hill, New Zealand south. It's funny though, we have Owen's River Gorge next door, an excellent sport climbing location, but we haven't even been remotely tempted to check it out as the Buttermilks bouldering in particular has been so good.
On the camp front, Bruno has showed some good skills with the fishing rod, and we've had fresh Rainbow Trout on the barbie several times. The rivers and lakes are teeming with them.
America has treated us well, and our credit cards have treated Wilson's Eastside Mountain Sports very well indeed. Shipped home my trad rack today, and invested in some more quick draws. It'll be sport climbing and bouldering only from now on. Me and Sarah also shipped home a large box with the majority of our clothing. Six weeks of on the road experience shows that you really don't need all that much. 8 pairs of socks? Haven't worn socks yet, as my sun-stencilled feet will testify. I could feature in a Chaco advert, for sure.
Bishop's been a 'way cool' place to hang out, and it's rapidly filling up with climbers and skiers -- Mammouth mountain opened for the season about a week ago, which seems a little bit weird from where we're sitting. Although nights are cold, and the peaks are snow-capped, days are still hotter than the Med in the summer.
The bouldering has gone better than expected, and I only wish I'd had another month to apply the new-found confidence and strength. We'll see if the improvements will hold once we hit the next bouldeing mecca in a few weeks, Castle Hill, New Zealand south. It's funny though, we have Owen's River Gorge next door, an excellent sport climbing location, but we haven't even been remotely tempted to check it out as the Buttermilks bouldering in particular has been so good.
On the camp front, Bruno has showed some good skills with the fishing rod, and we've had fresh Rainbow Trout on the barbie several times. The rivers and lakes are teeming with them.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Video evidence
Sarah's camera can take 30-seconds movie clips. We know you're all desperate to see us playing on the rocks in full motion glory, so without further ado...
Stef starting Mr Witty, V6
Stef chickening out the top move
Sarah failing on Edge of Reason, V3
Sarah sticking that move on Edge of Reason
Sarah very pleased to finish it off--overhanging slaps, not her normal forte
Stef starting the Iron Man Traverse, V4
Stef sticking the final slap on the Iron Man
Stef starting Mr Witty, V6
Stef chickening out the top move
Sarah failing on Edge of Reason, V3
Sarah sticking that move on Edge of Reason
Sarah very pleased to finish it off--overhanging slaps, not her normal forte
Stef starting the Iron Man Traverse, V4
Stef sticking the final slap on the Iron Man
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Bristlecone Pine Forest
Another rest day and for once we didn't find ourselves sucked into the black hole of Kava coffee shop. Instead we went to the Bristlecone Pine forest which is located in the White Mountains at 10,000 feet. The bristlecone pine is the most successful tree at growing at such altitude and in such harsh conditions and in such alkaline soil. The trees themselves look dead but when you look closely they can have just a strip of bark to a small part of the tree where the pines tell you they are alive. These trees don't only look amazing but some of them are over 4,000 years old. The "Methuselah" tree is 4,767 years old and is the earth's oldest living inhabitant, it has lived more than a millennium longer than any other tree. These trees have also been used in dendrochronology which is the dating of past events (such as climatic changes) through the study of tree ring growth and has aided in the calibration of carbon dating. Anyhow, besides all these interesting facts which we learnt from a video in the very warm ranger hut we then donned our down jackets and braved the cold weather at this height and walked the Methuselah trail. Although only 4 1/2 miles at this altitude it took us the best part of 2 hours!! We stopped many times to admire the view :) There was lots of snow and in some places it was quite icey underfoot but it all made for a spectacular walk.
The Daily Bishop
It's coming together.
Yesterday I did "Fuelled By Hate" at the Sad boulders and "Serengeti" at the Happies, my first V6 and V5 respectively, and my most successful day of bouldering so far in the grade stakes. A few days before I'd come heartbreakingly close on "Mr Witty", a V5/6 at the Happies, but ran out of cojones for the top foot of air time required to top out. The crux is the first few moves. I'll be back for that one. At the Buttermilks, I was pleased to get "Naan Bread", V4. With that, I think the doable part of the Buttermilks classics tick list is done.
Sarah completed a long-standing project, "Haunch A Loogle" (V3) at the Sads in fine style. She also came very close, thus surprising herself, on another V3 up at the Checkerboard. This problem wasn't really her style, a powerful sit start and long dynamic moves up an overhanging wall. We're all getting stronger. Sadly, Bruno bust a tendon in his arm and will be out of action for a while, which put a dampener on the proceedings.
Anyway. The weather is becoming more wintery. Days are still warm in the sun, but nights are now below freezing and the mountains around us are all beautifully snow-clad. All the high road passes in and out of Bishop are closed for the season, and we only just made it across from Yosemite. Tioga Pass is now snow-bound. After more than a month in the states, it has been a surprisingly positive experience. Sure, we're only spending time in the saner parts of the US, even if Bishop is at least in spirit part mid-west. White middle class America isn't that far off white middle class Europe. Steaks are bigger. Cars are way bigger. Beef is cheaper than bread. Bread is crap unless you seek out the smaller bakeries. Everything's sweet. However, with an eye on the ingredients lists one can eat like a king for not very much. Fruit and veg are of an exceptional quality in the state of California. The people we meet are friendly, open and polite. Climbers are climbers wherever you go, of course, but non-climbers, too, approach for a chat and seem genuinely interested when they realise we're Euros. Jen's dulcet Edinburgh tones draw attention wherever we go.
We've decided to hang out in Bishop for the duration and sack the Vegas/Red Rocks trip as the place is cool and the bouldering great.
Yesterday I did "Fuelled By Hate" at the Sad boulders and "Serengeti" at the Happies, my first V6 and V5 respectively, and my most successful day of bouldering so far in the grade stakes. A few days before I'd come heartbreakingly close on "Mr Witty", a V5/6 at the Happies, but ran out of cojones for the top foot of air time required to top out. The crux is the first few moves. I'll be back for that one. At the Buttermilks, I was pleased to get "Naan Bread", V4. With that, I think the doable part of the Buttermilks classics tick list is done.
Sarah completed a long-standing project, "Haunch A Loogle" (V3) at the Sads in fine style. She also came very close, thus surprising herself, on another V3 up at the Checkerboard. This problem wasn't really her style, a powerful sit start and long dynamic moves up an overhanging wall. We're all getting stronger. Sadly, Bruno bust a tendon in his arm and will be out of action for a while, which put a dampener on the proceedings.
Anyway. The weather is becoming more wintery. Days are still warm in the sun, but nights are now below freezing and the mountains around us are all beautifully snow-clad. All the high road passes in and out of Bishop are closed for the season, and we only just made it across from Yosemite. Tioga Pass is now snow-bound. After more than a month in the states, it has been a surprisingly positive experience. Sure, we're only spending time in the saner parts of the US, even if Bishop is at least in spirit part mid-west. White middle class America isn't that far off white middle class Europe. Steaks are bigger. Cars are way bigger. Beef is cheaper than bread. Bread is crap unless you seek out the smaller bakeries. Everything's sweet. However, with an eye on the ingredients lists one can eat like a king for not very much. Fruit and veg are of an exceptional quality in the state of California. The people we meet are friendly, open and polite. Climbers are climbers wherever you go, of course, but non-climbers, too, approach for a chat and seem genuinely interested when they realise we're Euros. Jen's dulcet Edinburgh tones draw attention wherever we go.
We've decided to hang out in Bishop for the duration and sack the Vegas/Red Rocks trip as the place is cool and the bouldering great.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Stef and Bruno on the slackline
It's actually possible to slack two at a time. Although not for very long.. This is our slackline at the Brown's Town Camping site, one mile south of Bishop. It looks like we'll be here for another ten days or so before heading for Vegas, baby. More climbing, I'm afraid, in Red Rocks in the desert outside Vegas.
Jen and Bruno have given up on their Cuba plans, so it looks like they'll be in the states for the rest of the year.
Jen and Bruno have given up on their Cuba plans, so it looks like they'll be in the states for the rest of the year.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Rodeo
We went to watch a Rodeo yesterday morning. It was brilliant. We had called in on the saturday to find out what was going on as there were loads of horses and we could see people watching something from the stands. It was called a high school Rodeo. It wasn't actually linked to any school but people between the ages of 14 and 18 come from all the 9 districts in California to compete. According to the nice lady we bombarded with a million questions they do splitting, the barrels, the poles, bare back riding, break-away, bull riding and much more all on the saturday and then they get to do it all again on the sunday. So we went to take a look. We saw the poles where horse and rider have to weave between poles as quick as they can (something we would do in gymkhana). Break-away which was where the girls have to lasoo a calf whilst on the run and then stop the horse as soon as possible so the lasoo breaks away. I think the boys have to get off and wrestle the calf showing how strong they are - a typical boy thing :) Then we saw the boys riding the bulls. Again, this was apparently not one for the girls. I have to say, we weren't sure how good it would be as the competitors are presumably considered quite young. But the bulls certainly looked frisky enough to me throwing their riders off and stamping on them if at all possible. It suddenly occured to me to consider where bull riding came from? The rest of what they were doing has obviously come from working on horse back. However, did a group of lads come home one night drunk and think hey, lets tie up the testicles of a bull to really pee him off and see just how long we can stay on board for. Certainly another way for boys to prove 'mine is bigger than yours' :) One day I would like to try some of what I saw.
Knuckle shuffle
After a day and a half of inactivity, the swelling in my hand appears to have abated, and all that remains is a dullish pain. Bruno's friend Steve finally appeared, rather late but not his fault. We put in half a day of boudering at the last remaining main bouldering area, The Sad Boulders yesterday. Not too enamoured with it to be honest, even if I did manage a V2 and a V3 which given the state or my hand I was happy with. Sarah managed a highball frightener rated V2. Steve and his travel companion Colin headed back towards Seattle as the rest of us cooked up the now traditional camp fire delights. The nights and mornings are getting colder, or 'baltic' as Jen phrased it. Days are still absoultely roasting in the sun, but the shade is cold. I've invested in a silk sleeping bag liner, both to keep me warm and to shelter me from any emerging biological threats that may have developed from it being in quite heavy use over the last few years, and not washed that frequently. Never, in fact. 'Minging' was Sarah's verdict - one of those northern words I don't quite know the meaning of, but it sounds bad.
We're slowly sorting out the travel plans ahead of us. It seems that you can race former America's Cup Yachts in Auckland, which sounds like a riot. We've managed to book accommodation, too, in College halls of residence, in the Mt Eden district.
We're slowly sorting out the travel plans ahead of us. It seems that you can race former America's Cup Yachts in Auckland, which sounds like a riot. We've managed to book accommodation, too, in College halls of residence, in the Mt Eden district.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Bust hand
Like a numpty, I bust my hand yesterday, coming off the slack line. The line (which isn't really that slack, more like a very tight crossbow string) caught the top of my left middle finger and when it snapped back, so did my finger. It hurt a lot initially, but I thought I'd got away with it. However, in the middle of the night it really started to throb and swell, and I had to pop a Codydramol for the pain. I don't think it's broken -- I've broken fingers before -- but rather it's the knuckle joint that was twisted. Anyway, no climbing for me for a while which is a real bummer. I'm now confined to town, instead of climbing with the others. At least I should be able to get on top of the blog..
Helicopter flying under the Golden Gate Bridge
The more financially flush choose a helicopter ride, but I'm sure the boat option is much more civilised.
Boat tour round the bay
We took a boat tour around S.F bay, under the Golden Gate bridge and around Alcatraz with an ex-commercial fisherman. Very nice day out.
A beer in a hot tub
All the hot springs in Bishop are officially tepid! We don't know why. We went to a hot spring last week and although we did go in it was the temperature your bath is when it's time to get out. We've tried again since and it's still luke warm. So, last night being Helen's last night with us we went further afield in search of a hot tub. We made our way to Mammouth and, yep, you've guessed it, the first one we found was tepid. The next one we tried was very hot....and full. This at least gave us hope that there is hot water to be found and third time lucky we found ourselves an empty hot tub in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Not sure we would find it again.. So, an ice cold beer in a very warm tub under a stary sky was eventually enjoyed by all.
Friday, October 28, 2005
Stef on top of the Grandpa Peabody boulder
Some boulders are high. Even if the technical difficulty of this one was modest, some soul searching was required to complete it
Thursday, October 27, 2005
A non-climbing post!!
Well, finally I thought I should post on here aswell. So, for everyone who has kindly been reading this blog and to who the technicalities of climbing mean nothing I thought I'd make this one a non-climbing post!! Although in answer to those of you who have asked if we have done anything other than climbing on this trip so far I'm afraid the answer is very little!! And I'm surpirsed you asked :)
We're having another rest day. My finger tips are sore, I have a small hole in the skin of one of them and my body is feeling battered. Brillliant!! So, I thought I'd write a few, perhaps random things about this trip so far. Starting from the beginning one of my favourite quotes was the hostess on the plane saying to the passenger in front, "It's nothing to worry about sir the captain is aware" as torrents of fuel are cascading from the tip of the wing with several fire engines approaching. Needless to say we are asked to disembark. This does nothing for my irrational fear that the plane could fall from the skies but fortunately the rest of the flight passes without incident and although I try to watch the same film three times I fail to watch it in its entirety due to lack of sleep the night before. We were up until 4am cleaning the house and packing.
After a brief stay in San Francisco, a place we all enjoyed (we managed to find the best truffle shop in northern america according to all the press cuttings in the window - $1 for a coffee and a truffle, saw golden gate bridge, ate clam chowder from a bread bowl) we moved on to Yosemite. I was completely awestruck by the place. No photos or words could do this justice. The towering cliffs of granite were just massive. Every morning I looked out of my tent at a cliff face that must have been at least 1000 feet high. It caught the first sun in the morning and was lit by the moonlight at night. The enourmity of the place was just staggering. I hear that "Jack Osbourne Adrenalin Junkie" is on back home and apparently he climbs El Cap so you can see some of the scenery we have experienced. Even though it's so warm over here they still seem to be going through the same seasonal changes. The autumnal colours of the leaves added to the beauty of the place. I have to mention the wildlife. I was disappointed not to see a bear however perhaps that is better than to be retelling some close encounter!! Instead we had a visit from a warden with a bear skull passing on the not so subtle message about what happens to these creatures if they are encouraged and become too aggresive. They have stopped giving them names and refer to them by number as they get to know their characters and find it too heart-breaking when they must be shot. They are very clever and although the warderns are constantly thinking of new ways to deter them they are only just managing to stay one step ahead. One bear has even worked out how to open the 'bear proof' lockers. The culprit was apprehended after lots of slobber was found on the handle!! We also saw a red-tailed hawk in an aerial pursuit with two ravens whilst we were climbing Commitment. The coyotes we saw were looking beautiful, apparently they were just starting to get their winter coats and looking fat from eating the over-fed squirrels. Incidently, the only person to be killed by an animal in the park was killed by a deer. A young boy was feeding a male deer when he dropped the bag of food. They both bent down at the same time causing an unfortunate collision between the boy's chest and the deer's antlers. Arriving in Bishop we even saw a juvenile golden eagle. Anyhow, enough twitching....
Bishop is more what I expected of a hick town out west. It is one long street with at least 16 churches and even more fast food outlets. Two tacos for 99 cents anyone? Now we've been here a while the town is surprisingly useful and I'm starting to really like the place. A pillow cost $2 from the thrift shop and has made the world of difference to sleeping at night. Once again the scenery is amazing. Beyond the town we are surrounded by snow capped mountains. Stef has put some photos on so you can see what I mean! In postcard fashion I have to mention the weather. It's been predomanently clear and sunny. People say you miss the rain after a while but I'm finding that hard to believe. Over the first few days the snow on the mountains noticeably diminished. Bishop has on average 5 inches of rain per year. I think we had most of that in one night as we experienced the mother of all thunder storms. I have never heard thunder like it as it seemed to echo amongst the mountains. In the morning the mountains were once again covered in snow and the Sonora and Tioga pass have been closed. Thank goodness we made it here before the storm otherwise our journey here would have been much longer.
I could easily become a cafe junky. On our rest days we sit in cafes, drinking coffee, reading books, chatting....pondering why you would ever by a large coffee when you can buy a small one and take advantage of the endless free refills. It's disturbing how quickly the scavenger mentality kicks in!! If we time it right we buy a bag of sweet goodies from Schatt's Bakery (the best bakery in northern america :) at the end of the day on offer for $3. 'Sweet' is one word I'll take from America. Everything edible is sweet. Usually corn syrup is one of the top three ingredients and it's proving quite hard to eat 'healthily'! Even the bread and cereal are sweet. Mind you, they know how to grow sweet corn and avacadoes! You can easily see how the nature of their diet leads to the second word I'll remember about America. 'Large'!! They manage to do everything on a bigger scale. It must be the only place where you can buy 4.48 lbs of steak for $7.48 and it's cheaper than the bread! It fed 5 of us for 2 dinners and lunch :) Most noticeably their cars and RVs are massive - some are the size of buses. The owners of some of these RVs on our campsite seem to have taken pity on these crazy foreigners who are actually camping in tents and keep bringing donations of firewood checking we 'survived' the storm :) Although we have a good source of free firewood from the local timber yard.
I'm currently getting more tanned on my back than my front and I have developed serious sandal marks. A consequence of facing the rock for most of the day!! A small price to pay for doing what we enjoy day in day out. I feel like we are busy every day. I wonder how we managed to fit a full time job in around our climbing at home (perhaps I didn't manage very successfully ;). Is that the right way round to think about it? I think so now!! I'm enjoying the evenings around the campfires. We are becoming connoisseurs of cooking on a fire and I enjoy the moments of just relaxing, drinking a beer, reading my book. Never has a beer tasted so good after a full day bouldering! This will be my only mention of climbing...the boulder fields are amazing and no surprise, we have nothing (that I know of) of this scale at home. Not all the boulders are high but some are! We arrived at the Buttermilks yesterday to see a group being taught how to climb using topropes on a boulder. Seemed wrong that they should be doing this on some classic 3 star problem. Perhaps they haven't got the pressures of numbers to make them think about this and preserve these boulders the best they can. But hey, here is not the place to debate the ethics of climbing!
On our rest days we are honing our techniques of the totally pointless pursuits of slacklining and hacky sacking. Slacklining is hard. It requires complete concentration and total relaxation at the same time, proving to be more Stef's forte than mine. Well, it's time to go for a coffee. Many of the cafes have free wireless internet access. We have already pondered the possibility of a job where it doesn't matter where your office is. I'm enjoying myself here!!
We're having another rest day. My finger tips are sore, I have a small hole in the skin of one of them and my body is feeling battered. Brillliant!! So, I thought I'd write a few, perhaps random things about this trip so far. Starting from the beginning one of my favourite quotes was the hostess on the plane saying to the passenger in front, "It's nothing to worry about sir the captain is aware" as torrents of fuel are cascading from the tip of the wing with several fire engines approaching. Needless to say we are asked to disembark. This does nothing for my irrational fear that the plane could fall from the skies but fortunately the rest of the flight passes without incident and although I try to watch the same film three times I fail to watch it in its entirety due to lack of sleep the night before. We were up until 4am cleaning the house and packing.
After a brief stay in San Francisco, a place we all enjoyed (we managed to find the best truffle shop in northern america according to all the press cuttings in the window - $1 for a coffee and a truffle, saw golden gate bridge, ate clam chowder from a bread bowl) we moved on to Yosemite. I was completely awestruck by the place. No photos or words could do this justice. The towering cliffs of granite were just massive. Every morning I looked out of my tent at a cliff face that must have been at least 1000 feet high. It caught the first sun in the morning and was lit by the moonlight at night. The enourmity of the place was just staggering. I hear that "Jack Osbourne Adrenalin Junkie" is on back home and apparently he climbs El Cap so you can see some of the scenery we have experienced. Even though it's so warm over here they still seem to be going through the same seasonal changes. The autumnal colours of the leaves added to the beauty of the place. I have to mention the wildlife. I was disappointed not to see a bear however perhaps that is better than to be retelling some close encounter!! Instead we had a visit from a warden with a bear skull passing on the not so subtle message about what happens to these creatures if they are encouraged and become too aggresive. They have stopped giving them names and refer to them by number as they get to know their characters and find it too heart-breaking when they must be shot. They are very clever and although the warderns are constantly thinking of new ways to deter them they are only just managing to stay one step ahead. One bear has even worked out how to open the 'bear proof' lockers. The culprit was apprehended after lots of slobber was found on the handle!! We also saw a red-tailed hawk in an aerial pursuit with two ravens whilst we were climbing Commitment. The coyotes we saw were looking beautiful, apparently they were just starting to get their winter coats and looking fat from eating the over-fed squirrels. Incidently, the only person to be killed by an animal in the park was killed by a deer. A young boy was feeding a male deer when he dropped the bag of food. They both bent down at the same time causing an unfortunate collision between the boy's chest and the deer's antlers. Arriving in Bishop we even saw a juvenile golden eagle. Anyhow, enough twitching....
Bishop is more what I expected of a hick town out west. It is one long street with at least 16 churches and even more fast food outlets. Two tacos for 99 cents anyone? Now we've been here a while the town is surprisingly useful and I'm starting to really like the place. A pillow cost $2 from the thrift shop and has made the world of difference to sleeping at night. Once again the scenery is amazing. Beyond the town we are surrounded by snow capped mountains. Stef has put some photos on so you can see what I mean! In postcard fashion I have to mention the weather. It's been predomanently clear and sunny. People say you miss the rain after a while but I'm finding that hard to believe. Over the first few days the snow on the mountains noticeably diminished. Bishop has on average 5 inches of rain per year. I think we had most of that in one night as we experienced the mother of all thunder storms. I have never heard thunder like it as it seemed to echo amongst the mountains. In the morning the mountains were once again covered in snow and the Sonora and Tioga pass have been closed. Thank goodness we made it here before the storm otherwise our journey here would have been much longer.
I could easily become a cafe junky. On our rest days we sit in cafes, drinking coffee, reading books, chatting....pondering why you would ever by a large coffee when you can buy a small one and take advantage of the endless free refills. It's disturbing how quickly the scavenger mentality kicks in!! If we time it right we buy a bag of sweet goodies from Schatt's Bakery (the best bakery in northern america :) at the end of the day on offer for $3. 'Sweet' is one word I'll take from America. Everything edible is sweet. Usually corn syrup is one of the top three ingredients and it's proving quite hard to eat 'healthily'! Even the bread and cereal are sweet. Mind you, they know how to grow sweet corn and avacadoes! You can easily see how the nature of their diet leads to the second word I'll remember about America. 'Large'!! They manage to do everything on a bigger scale. It must be the only place where you can buy 4.48 lbs of steak for $7.48 and it's cheaper than the bread! It fed 5 of us for 2 dinners and lunch :) Most noticeably their cars and RVs are massive - some are the size of buses. The owners of some of these RVs on our campsite seem to have taken pity on these crazy foreigners who are actually camping in tents and keep bringing donations of firewood checking we 'survived' the storm :) Although we have a good source of free firewood from the local timber yard.
I'm currently getting more tanned on my back than my front and I have developed serious sandal marks. A consequence of facing the rock for most of the day!! A small price to pay for doing what we enjoy day in day out. I feel like we are busy every day. I wonder how we managed to fit a full time job in around our climbing at home (perhaps I didn't manage very successfully ;). Is that the right way round to think about it? I think so now!! I'm enjoying the evenings around the campfires. We are becoming connoisseurs of cooking on a fire and I enjoy the moments of just relaxing, drinking a beer, reading my book. Never has a beer tasted so good after a full day bouldering! This will be my only mention of climbing...the boulder fields are amazing and no surprise, we have nothing (that I know of) of this scale at home. Not all the boulders are high but some are! We arrived at the Buttermilks yesterday to see a group being taught how to climb using topropes on a boulder. Seemed wrong that they should be doing this on some classic 3 star problem. Perhaps they haven't got the pressures of numbers to make them think about this and preserve these boulders the best they can. But hey, here is not the place to debate the ethics of climbing!
On our rest days we are honing our techniques of the totally pointless pursuits of slacklining and hacky sacking. Slacklining is hard. It requires complete concentration and total relaxation at the same time, proving to be more Stef's forte than mine. Well, it's time to go for a coffee. Many of the cafes have free wireless internet access. We have already pondered the possibility of a job where it doesn't matter where your office is. I'm enjoying myself here!!
Bashing Bishop
Getting into the Bishop habit. Nights are cold, days are absolutely roasting, so no real rush to get out of bed. Bouldering takes it out of you in a different way than route climbing -- much more intense, so days are shorter. The Happy boulders are this volcanic stuff that lends itself to gymnastic, arm-sapping moves on large, but sharp holds, whereas the Butermilks are huge, egg-shaped granite boulders that requires more skill, crimping on sharpened Barclaycards, and friction for feet. These 'boulder problems' sometimes finish 45' above the (thankfully flat) landing. This is probably getting on for twice the height of the Bristol wall. A real man-boy sorter, to quote our Ken. We're all doing well -- I've managed my trip goal of V4 -- twice, in fact -- already, and Sarah's got several V3-s under her belt, coming close on V4, too. The Happies are the place for grade pushing, but situated at lower altitude, they're not that pleasent to climb on in the sveltering mid day heat. We ventured a bit further into the hills yesterday to the Pollen Grains boulders, even higher, but due to their remoteness, a real sense of solitude with snow capped mountains all around us.
We're resting today. The Pollen Grains took it out of us all, both skin-wise and muscle-wise. We've set up a slack line in the camp site wich amused us no end this morning. You can see how this can get addictive -- a weird combination of absolute concentration and total relaxation required. We're thinking of heading to the hot springs in Mammoth later on, as we've han little luck with the ones here in Bishop. More like luke-warm springs at the moment, the times we've tried.
I've finally come up with a decent way of uploading photos, so hopefully there should be a few appearing in a blog post near you. Bishop library has the decency of allowing free internet use, albeit 30 mins at a time.
We're resting today. The Pollen Grains took it out of us all, both skin-wise and muscle-wise. We've set up a slack line in the camp site wich amused us no end this morning. You can see how this can get addictive -- a weird combination of absolute concentration and total relaxation required. We're thinking of heading to the hot springs in Mammoth later on, as we've han little luck with the ones here in Bishop. More like luke-warm springs at the moment, the times we've tried.
I've finally come up with a decent way of uploading photos, so hopefully there should be a few appearing in a blog post near you. Bishop library has the decency of allowing free internet use, albeit 30 mins at a time.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Happy Boulders
First day bouldering at the Happies. The rock architecture is rather improbable. This place could be the moon. The rock's very fractured with both steep overhangs and more slabby faces. Both Sarah and I manage problems rated V3. Jen took a nasty drop off a V2 highball and due to some sloppy spotting fell badly - shaken but not hurt. By the time we stop the rain clouds are rolling in producing a gentle but steady drizzle. We take refuge in 'Schatts Dutch Bakkery' (sic) and then for another burrito instead of cooking in the rain.
Bishop (Oct 17)
Welcome to Bishop, Ca, population 3045, Smallville US of A. Pretty impressive drive through Toulumne Meadows and the Tioga Pass, 9945 ft elevation. Bishop is in the desert of the Sierra Nevada foot hills which are all beautifully snow-capped around us at the moment. This is how I imagined the US - one wide main streed lined with shops and fast food joints, and not much else. We drive around for ages sizing up all possible camping options, before settling for Brown's Town Camping, just south of Bishop town itself. The free climbers' campsites are still closed for the season. This is a full service camp site, mostly frequented by your typical massive RV - basically mobile appartment blocks. But it's quiet, and cheap - $4 per person per night, cheaper than Camp 4 in fact, although it lacks the vibe. We head out for a few beers and a massive burrito before turning in.
Committment (Oct 16)
All of us head for Five Open Books crag with the intent of bagging a quick team ascent of 'Committment' (5.9) before heading out to Cookie Cliff for some more taxing fayre.The plan's partly scuppered by finding two teams already in-situ. We decide to sit it out. Jen takes the first two pitches in style - after some running commentary that doesn't exactly settle Sarah's nerves. The first pitch is a fine splitter hand crack that goes at 5.8. Sarah eventually decides to take it on, and sends it in confident style. After an uneventful second pitch that Sarah also led, I lead through the top crux pitch. Laybacking and somewhat awkwardly swinging a couple of corners leads to a sandy exit where I accidently manage to dislodge some rocks the length of the route like a numpty. Bruno and Jen have already waited some half hour for us, so they ask if they can head off. Not that much for us mere mortals at the Cookie anyway so Sarah and I head back to Camp 4 for some beers and more slack line practice. I manage to walk the length of the tape and feel enormously pleased with myself.
Bruno and Jenny arrives back as darkness falls. Bruno has managed to classic hard cracks and is happy with his effort. We're leaving the valley tomorrow, which feels a bit sad. Camp 4 has been a pleasant experience. One last slap-up extravaganza on the camp fire, and tomorrow we'll be in Bishop.
Bruno and Jenny arrives back as darkness falls. Bruno has managed to classic hard cracks and is happy with his effort. We're leaving the valley tomorrow, which feels a bit sad. Camp 4 has been a pleasant experience. One last slap-up extravaganza on the camp fire, and tomorrow we'll be in Bishop.
Five & Dime (Oct 15)
Rain! Shock Horror.. we've had clear blue skies every day until now, but this morning was overcast and a gentle drizzle. Feels almost like home. Finally managed to get hold of my mum on the phone, and everything's OK. She's promised me to alert Interpol if she doesn't hear from me at least once a forthnight. As the weather's looking iffy, we'll probably try some shorter, bolted stuff at the Five & Dime cliff. Weather's set to improve, apparently. We did a 5.8 and a 5.10b on bolts, and Sarah led an excellent 5.8 on gear. Bruno got annihilated by the hardest 5.10d crack in the valley, 'Five & Dime'.
Munginella (Oct 13)
Sarah and I headed to Five Open Books to do 'Munginella' (5.6), a very nice outing, and Sarah led most of it, bar a fraction of a pitch as changing over was cumbersome. The sun was seriously hot, and we decided to wander back and have a shower. Bruno and Jenny had gone off early to do 'East Buttress of Middle Cathedral', an 11 pitch monster. To our surprise, they arrived back at the camp site not long after us, having made good time as the first team on the route. We went and purchased some good ol' American beef for the camp fire BBQ, and a crate of the stellar Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.
Serenity Crack/ Sons of Yesterday (Oct 12)
Alpine start, breakfast in the 6am darkness. We have 8 hard, long pitches ahead of us, so we'll have to shift. Neither me, nor Bruno slept much, partly adrenaline, partly the Japs' leaving party. We park up at the Ahwanee hotel and scramble up to the start of the route at the base of the Royal Arches. To our dismay, we've been beaten to it by 5 minutes by another team, two lads from Glasgow. We resign ourselves to a long wait. No teams behind us yet, so we give them plenty of room. The route looks amazing - the foreshortening effect hides its true extent, but a soaring peg-scarred crack juts up as far as the eyes can see.
The two scots are moving fast and efficiently, and once the second is setting off on the second pitch, Bruno gets to work. This is climbing at my limit, so Bruno may have to lead every pitch. There are some easier pitches up top, but I don't expect to have much left in the tank by then. First gear is an old 7mm aid bolt some 35ft up. Bruno soon dispatches the pitch, and it's my go. I soon get into the flow of things - every move pretty much identical, torking both fingers and toes into the old peg scars and stepping up. Actually, it doesn't feel too hard, not disimilar to Millstone's Embankment routes, maybe E1 or E2. I join Bruno at the bolted stance, and we sort out the gear and rope. The next pitch is more of the same, just tending more towards the vertical. It feels harder. Third and last pitch starts with some amenable laybacking and then the 10d crux section: spaced finger locks in shallow peg scars, and friction only for feet. Bruno hangs around for ages, measuring the sequence, placing gear. He will have to sprint it. Once he commits he surprises himself with a smooth flowing effort. I only stay on by the skin of my teeth. This is the end of Serenity Crack itself.
We have a breather, some food and water and enjoy the views before we scramble up to the start of the next route, 'Sons of Yesterday' (5.10b) - five pitches of hand jamming brutality. Although rated easier, we're not exactly fully Yosemite crack honed yet, so expect to find this more taxing. The guide suggests that the starting pitch may feel the hardest of the whole linkup for those unaccustomed to 'flared, awkward thin hands'. The sun is now hitting us full on, as Bruno is creeping his way up. When it's my turn, I find every single inch of progress a struggle to stay on. A couple of easier pitches follow that normally I wouldn't have had any troubles leading, but I am spent. The top two pitches will rank as the best I've ever climbed - a perfect hands splitter, 70 ft long and the last one more hands followed by a diagonally rising 'toe ramp' that you simply walk up with nothing for your hands and an offwidth/layback to the top. Rarely have I been so tired after climbing, and I'm glad I taped up for this adventure.We sit down and wait for the Aussie guys following us, as they're right in the ab line. All that's left is now 10 abseils to the deck. Sarah and Jen had spotted us coming down in their binoculars as they'd finished their route about the same time, so they met us at the base. I felt more tired than after the Bristol half marathon.
The two scots are moving fast and efficiently, and once the second is setting off on the second pitch, Bruno gets to work. This is climbing at my limit, so Bruno may have to lead every pitch. There are some easier pitches up top, but I don't expect to have much left in the tank by then. First gear is an old 7mm aid bolt some 35ft up. Bruno soon dispatches the pitch, and it's my go. I soon get into the flow of things - every move pretty much identical, torking both fingers and toes into the old peg scars and stepping up. Actually, it doesn't feel too hard, not disimilar to Millstone's Embankment routes, maybe E1 or E2. I join Bruno at the bolted stance, and we sort out the gear and rope. The next pitch is more of the same, just tending more towards the vertical. It feels harder. Third and last pitch starts with some amenable laybacking and then the 10d crux section: spaced finger locks in shallow peg scars, and friction only for feet. Bruno hangs around for ages, measuring the sequence, placing gear. He will have to sprint it. Once he commits he surprises himself with a smooth flowing effort. I only stay on by the skin of my teeth. This is the end of Serenity Crack itself.
We have a breather, some food and water and enjoy the views before we scramble up to the start of the next route, 'Sons of Yesterday' (5.10b) - five pitches of hand jamming brutality. Although rated easier, we're not exactly fully Yosemite crack honed yet, so expect to find this more taxing. The guide suggests that the starting pitch may feel the hardest of the whole linkup for those unaccustomed to 'flared, awkward thin hands'. The sun is now hitting us full on, as Bruno is creeping his way up. When it's my turn, I find every single inch of progress a struggle to stay on. A couple of easier pitches follow that normally I wouldn't have had any troubles leading, but I am spent. The top two pitches will rank as the best I've ever climbed - a perfect hands splitter, 70 ft long and the last one more hands followed by a diagonally rising 'toe ramp' that you simply walk up with nothing for your hands and an offwidth/layback to the top. Rarely have I been so tired after climbing, and I'm glad I taped up for this adventure.We sit down and wait for the Aussie guys following us, as they're right in the ab line. All that's left is now 10 abseils to the deck. Sarah and Jen had spotted us coming down in their binoculars as they'd finished their route about the same time, so they met us at the base. I felt more tired than after the Bristol half marathon.
Rest day
Rest day. Bruno and Matt the German got back really late last night after a bit of an epic involving not actually finding the right crag. Base camp were starting to get a bit worried, but everything was OK. Today Bruno tried to teach me some hacky sack, but I have zero footy skills. We all went for a run in some spectacular scenery around Mirror Lake, for about an hour - first post-marathon run. We then awarded ourselves a shower and did our first trip laundry. Bruno has talked me into trying the Serenity Crack/Sons of Yesterday linkup tomorrow, which will be my hardest climb anywhere by some margin. We've racked up and prepared for an alpine start - 9 pitches of continuous crack. Sarah and Jen are doing 'the best 5.6 in the valley' complete with splitters on the glacial apron, 'The Grack'
Nutcracker
Bruno and Matt the German headed off to their crag, and Sarah, me, Jen and Dave the Kiwi headed towards Manure Pile. Sarah and I had our sights set for the ultraclassic 5.8 'Nutcracker'. Bruno and Jen had done it the other day, declaring it 'straightforward' (as any E5/F8a climber should, when climbing 12 grades below their top). Paul had told me that he'd had a go as a warm-up a few years ago finding it challenging for the grade. First pitch was a 60m sketchy layback, and it certainly stretched me - I was very happy to swing the corner to easy ground. Sarah came up slightly disappointed having had to take some tension to remove a stuck piece. She led through the 5.4 pich above. Third pitch started with an airy step right and then a 5.7 thin hands crack with some laybacking thrown in. Nice. Fourth pitch felt like the crux, with two roofs and some exposed friction padding. The length of the pitch forced a hanging belay where it was not intended, as I only had 12 draws and I'd spent most of my cams. Sarah came up and led through the remaining 5.4 and reestablished the belay in its correct position. Last pitch is supposedly the crux, an 'exposed' mantle with 'bad fall potential'. We both found it rather straight-forward. Not really much of a mantle, and OK gear and not very exposed. The rest of the route was glorious, run-out friction and chicken heads to the top. Yet another route of spectacular quality, hard enough to be interesting, but never desperate, probably UK HVS 5b or so.
Yosemite 3
Sunday 9th
Had a great day at the Chruch Bowl crag. I did 'Bishops Terrace' (5.8), a full 60m pitch of glorious crack-work. I lack superlatives to describe the quality of this route. Perfect climbing, Yosemite style. If you've done Millstone's Bond Street, imagine three of them stacked on top of eachother. We then moved on to do 'Church Bowl Lie Back' (5.8), claimed to be the choice route of the crag. Sarah backed off the initial slick, bold layback, and I took over the sharp end. This pitch was 35 metres and managed to feel way harder than 5.8. We rarely get a chance at pure laybacks in the UK, at least not for 35 metres continuously. Back to camp via the shop. Had a long chat with various Camp 4 inhabitants over food, beer and a roaring camp fire courtesy of the Jap contingent. Spoke to Dave the Kiwi who upon hearing we're from Bristol were wondering if we're familiar with the route King Kong at Wintour's Leap. Bizarre being in the states, chatting about the Crag of Dreams with a Kiwi. Tomorrow Bruno is off to do something ridiculous with Matt the German, and the rest of us are heading back to Manure Pile Buttress to do Nutcracker.
Had a great day at the Chruch Bowl crag. I did 'Bishops Terrace' (5.8), a full 60m pitch of glorious crack-work. I lack superlatives to describe the quality of this route. Perfect climbing, Yosemite style. If you've done Millstone's Bond Street, imagine three of them stacked on top of eachother. We then moved on to do 'Church Bowl Lie Back' (5.8), claimed to be the choice route of the crag. Sarah backed off the initial slick, bold layback, and I took over the sharp end. This pitch was 35 metres and managed to feel way harder than 5.8. We rarely get a chance at pure laybacks in the UK, at least not for 35 metres continuously. Back to camp via the shop. Had a long chat with various Camp 4 inhabitants over food, beer and a roaring camp fire courtesy of the Jap contingent. Spoke to Dave the Kiwi who upon hearing we're from Bristol were wondering if we're familiar with the route King Kong at Wintour's Leap. Bizarre being in the states, chatting about the Crag of Dreams with a Kiwi. Tomorrow Bruno is off to do something ridiculous with Matt the German, and the rest of us are heading back to Manure Pile Buttress to do Nutcracker.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Yosemite 2
Oct 8 - Early start at Manure Pile Buttress was scuppered by my haviing lost my belay device and then getting seriously lost on the one-way ring road back from the shop.Sarah and I did 'After Six' (5.7), five pitches on flawless granite, which was our first real taste of Yosemite climbing. We summitted to spectacular views of the whole valley, El Cap to the left and Half Dome to the right. Bruno and Jenny came up just after, having done the ultra classic 'Nutcracker'.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Yosemite
Oct 6 - Camp 4 is full, so we're forced to spend the night in a camp site outside the valley floor. The scenery is just staggering. Easy slow drive from S.F. Americans do the whole motorway thing in a much more civilised pace than in Europe. As we drove into the valley at dusk, we could see El Cap lit up with pin pricks from head torches - the tell-tale sign that climbers on multi-day ascents were still at work.
The first thing you have to get used to is bear awareness. ll food or scented items, such as tooth paste, sun creametc must be stored in bear proof lockers. There are significant numbers of blackbears in he woods, but also raccoons and squirrels have a go if anything is left out. Bears 'open' a car with effortless ease.
Oct 7 - queued up for a Camp 4 space at 7am, and were assigned to site #7, just to the side of the Midnight Lightning boulder. After heading back to the first camp site to have brekkie and pack up we finally got ourselves installed and settled in. Camp 4 is the epi-centre of valley climbing, or probably world climbing. 220 people from all over the world, united in climbing. We're sharing with a bunch of Japansese and German. I lack the vocabulary to describe the views. Soaring, 1500m high granite walls, waterfalls, huge redwood trees, and wall to wall sunshine and blue skies. Haven't seen a cloud since we landed, in fact.
Some easy routes to get used to the stuff in the afternoon. Sarah led a 5.6 jam crack. My elbow is ok-ish.
The first thing you have to get used to is bear awareness. ll food or scented items, such as tooth paste, sun creametc must be stored in bear proof lockers. There are significant numbers of blackbears in he woods, but also raccoons and squirrels have a go if anything is left out. Bears 'open' a car with effortless ease.
Oct 7 - queued up for a Camp 4 space at 7am, and were assigned to site #7, just to the side of the Midnight Lightning boulder. After heading back to the first camp site to have brekkie and pack up we finally got ourselves installed and settled in. Camp 4 is the epi-centre of valley climbing, or probably world climbing. 220 people from all over the world, united in climbing. We're sharing with a bunch of Japansese and German. I lack the vocabulary to describe the views. Soaring, 1500m high granite walls, waterfalls, huge redwood trees, and wall to wall sunshine and blue skies. Haven't seen a cloud since we landed, in fact.
Some easy routes to get used to the stuff in the afternoon. Sarah led a 5.6 jam crack. My elbow is ok-ish.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
San Francisco
I could live here.
Getting packed and moved out was traumatic. Finally crawled into bed at 4am, with the alarm set for 6. Very tired, we drove towards Heathrow. We had to disembark our plane after a school leaver on work experience placement had overfilled the tanks, leading to a waterfall of jet fuel gushing through the wing. Quite spectacular, but also quite unnerving when the pilot says that they just need to mop up the mess before we can head off again. Three hours of thumb twiddling (Su Doku in Sarah's case - a big hand to her former lab mates for the foresight) later, we're back on board and safely off.
Bruno and Jen is there to meet and greet, and we head off to the car hire place. Bruno has already realised that our combined packing is unlikely to fit in a 'compact' car, especially with two boulder pads. We upgrade to a 'mid-size', and just about manage to squeeze in. We drive off towards town and get lost a few times. The hostel is squished in between titty-bars and strip joints, but seem friendly and lively. They've lost our booking, but manage to sort it out. We head off for a Chinese - 'first time here? One chicken, one beef one fish one shrimp' the sturdy lady says and heads off before we can object. Very effective, and very nice too.
The next day (Wed) we wander down to Fisherman's Wharf. S.F is a really nice place, very quiet and nice for pedestrians. We take a boat trip with a former commercial fisherman who's now plying the tourist trade. We cruise under the famous bridge, and around Alcatraz. Some clam chowder later and we're wandering back through down town (new SD card and battery for my camera) and arrive back at the hostel for dinner. Jet lag still has the best of us, and we turn in.
Today we're driving to Yosemite.
Getting packed and moved out was traumatic. Finally crawled into bed at 4am, with the alarm set for 6. Very tired, we drove towards Heathrow. We had to disembark our plane after a school leaver on work experience placement had overfilled the tanks, leading to a waterfall of jet fuel gushing through the wing. Quite spectacular, but also quite unnerving when the pilot says that they just need to mop up the mess before we can head off again. Three hours of thumb twiddling (Su Doku in Sarah's case - a big hand to her former lab mates for the foresight) later, we're back on board and safely off.
Bruno and Jen is there to meet and greet, and we head off to the car hire place. Bruno has already realised that our combined packing is unlikely to fit in a 'compact' car, especially with two boulder pads. We upgrade to a 'mid-size', and just about manage to squeeze in. We drive off towards town and get lost a few times. The hostel is squished in between titty-bars and strip joints, but seem friendly and lively. They've lost our booking, but manage to sort it out. We head off for a Chinese - 'first time here? One chicken, one beef one fish one shrimp' the sturdy lady says and heads off before we can object. Very effective, and very nice too.
The next day (Wed) we wander down to Fisherman's Wharf. S.F is a really nice place, very quiet and nice for pedestrians. We take a boat trip with a former commercial fisherman who's now plying the tourist trade. We cruise under the famous bridge, and around Alcatraz. Some clam chowder later and we're wandering back through down town (new SD card and battery for my camera) and arrive back at the hostel for dinner. Jet lag still has the best of us, and we turn in.
Today we're driving to Yosemite.
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