Having not blogged for a while I figure it's time I got my arse in gear. Truth is it's been a combination between not having much time and not having done much. Christmas was cool, a week in Fontainebleau with friends, the first time I've spent any notable time there. Then work. And a bit of climbing.
But the winter bug has been biting again. About 4 years ago I was doing a fair bit. living in Carlisle made it easier but then I moved closer to my other passion; Limestone sport climbing. Unfortunately this made it 2 hours further to Fort William. Good excuse, so I stopped going.
But after a while sport climbing gets tame, pushing yourself physically is great but as someone who started life as a trad climber I started to crave some mountains and more importantly, some adventure!
In short I've had a revival. A couple of Ben Nevis plums last winter were all it took. Then this winter I got off early. A fairly hoarless Hoarmaster, a drippy South Gully Black Wall, Kellet's Route and then in what was one of the winteriest winter spells since I was in nappies, an elusive Inaccesible Gully (winter climbing in the Lakes!!!)
Whilst all of this wets the appetite, it can be a bit sporadic. Not getting out every weekend, but once a month (if you're lucky.) You get a hit but when will the next one come? Enter the Alps.
John and I recently headed to La Grave, domain of extreme skiers and climbers of frozen waterfalls. And we were rewarded with the weather, cold and crisp; the conditions fab, ice,ice and more ice; and the week flew by! We climbed everyday as you have to make the most of it. In the UK ice is firmly of the "here today, gone tomorrow" variety and it's hard to shake that outlook even when in a fairytale playground of frozen curtains, perfect pillars and narrow "slot-like" goullottes.
The shots below give a taste:
John on Doigt D'Astorothe (gauche) WI5+, La Grave
French climber on lower steepness of Forme Du Chaos WI4, Ceillac
John on pitch 2 of Hiroshima WI5, Fournel Valley
So when we returned we were psyched, but in true British style the big freeze had turned into the big thaw. Ten degrees celsius and rain, shit for rock never mind ice! And it was the Scottish international winter meet. It's like you're deluded.. "oh yeah brilliant ice on the Ben, world class." Then they reply with the disdain of one who is humouring an imbecile. "Oh yes, sure!"
But that's why we appreciate it when we get it. Bring on a good week (or day) and British ice climbers are like dogs on heat!
Ooh is that a cold snap on the horizon? Bring it on.
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