Perfect Verdon souvenir

40 years ago today, Elaine and I arrived at the Gorges du Verdon for the very first time. It was our first ever climbing trip abroad and we'd made the long drive from Merseyside with Al and Alison Simpson, via a stop off at Fontainbleau to do some bouldering. 

We quickly set up camp at the Camping Municipal and set off for a drive along La Route des Cretes to go and check out the cliffs. We stopped at all the belvederes to take in the impressive views. Not surprisingly, we were awe-inspired as we watched the climbers making their ways up the various routes on La Falaise de l'Escales, the biggest and most popular cliff in the gorge at that time.

Next day, after an early start, Elaine and I set off from Couloir Sampson along the Sentier Martel, heading for the classic multipitch Voie de la Demande. I'd recently broken into the E6 grade back in North Wales, so I assumed that La Demande would be straight forward, as it was theoretically much easier. However, it turned into a baptism by fire and we took all day! A combination of tricky route finding, climbing with trainers and water bottles attached to our harnesses, along with climbing in the intense afternoon sun meant that we were very slow. We had a total epic, especially in the chimneys at the top which were very strenuous and utterly terrifying. Furthermore, there was nobody around to hitch a lift back to the campsite, so we had to walk all the way back and arrived totally exhausted, well after most people had gone to bed! Neither of us slept well that night, we were far too worried about our car sitting in the car park at Couloir Sampson. Rick Newcombe gave me a lift to go and get it early the next morning; it was a great relief to find it still there, undamaged with all the windows intact.

After our epic on La Demande, Elaine and I decided that we'd had enough of climbing long routes, starting at the base and climbing all the way to the top of L'Escales. At the top of the cliff there were lots of one and two pitch routes, accessible by abseil, that kept us happy for a few days (eg Necronomicron and Ctulah), always after a leisurely breakfast (thanks to Rupert Hewson for collecting fresh baguettes and croissants every morning). 

There are also lots of climbs that start from the various tree covered terraces part way up the cliff. However, the multiple abseils needed to get down are almost as famous (and harrowing) as the climbs! So, Al and I were very happy to complete the abseils down to the bottom of Jean-Claude Droyer's classis masterpiece Triomphe d'Eros without incident. (Sadly, the climb is defaced with red and white GR markings, presumably somebody egotistically implying that it's a path.) Everything went smoothly until the belay next to the famous graffiti "La concierges est dans la fissure, sonnez la", which was when a massive storm started. Luckily the timing was perfect for a change, we were completely sheltered and stayed dry. However, the next pitch was a long traverse right that led to a belay below the crux pitch, both were completely soaked and unclimbable. Neither of us wanted to abseil all the way down, and staying put was not a good idea as it was getting late by then. Al spotted a line of pegs and bolts that went up the dry overhanging wall leftwards above our belay, so he manfully set off (despite having no idea what grade it was) using a mixture of free and aid climbing, and got to the top without much fuss. It was a phenomenal lead in my opinion. Next day, we abbed back to the belay besides the doorbell and finished the route. Brilliant!

Joe Picalli inspired Elaine and I to go and climb the uber classic Dingomaniaque, which we both enjoyed without having an epic. Joe and I finally teamed up and had so much fun together on Toujours plus près. 

Our visit coincided with the appearance of the book Opera Vertical (featuring Patrick Edlinger) in the shop in La Palud. It provided the perfect souvenir for our trip and would provide the inspiration for a return the following year to climb Surveiller et Punir. Joe, Elaine and I climbed a number of the routes on the roadside crag of Miroir du Fou and managed to succeed on Overcool Babados and Missing before it was time to start the long journey north.

Where Al and I waited for the storm to pass whilst on Triomphe d'Eros

The crux pitch of Triomphe d'Eros

I remember Ctulah was pretty tough

The awesome crux pitch of Dingomaniaque

Overcool Babados

The 3rd (crux) pitch of Surveiller et Punir, inspiration for the following year

The 4th (and last) pitch of Surveiller et Punir, more inspiration for the following year

TNT, a climb I did the following year with Simon King

Malaxe

St Léger is definitely one of the best places to climb in the south of France and it's just over a three hour drive away for us. We have been climbing there, off and on, for over 20 years. It's located in a beautiful part of Provence, just to the north of the imposing Mont Ventoux, and is surrounded by rustic villages, vineyards and lavender fields.

La Baleine is the stand out sector for me. It has climbing from 6a to 8c, from vertical to crazily steep and has plenty of shade. Grades are generally stiff and you have to pull hard; there are lots of tufas and therefore lots of knee bars, but there are also lots of slopers too, so the climbing is always very pumpy. I've been captivated by the place since the early days of equipping back in 2009, despite my ego getting a severe kicking on more than one occasion, I have more unfinished projects there than anywhere else! Occasionally I do manage to complete something though.

Early in September 2021, I was inspired to try a very steep 8a/+ called Malaxe, after watching  a German climber, called Maria, who looked very strong and solid on the moves. I went up twice that day, but didn't really find the methods for the hardest sections. It rained heavily overnight, the route got wet and it was easy to use that as an excuse to walk away and forget about it. 

Climbing is sometimes like that, you have to be really motivated to put in a lot of effort when you're trying something close to your limit. There are days when things seem too much like hard work, but there are also those magical days when the planets align, gravity is low, and everything seems effortless.

Fast forward 18 months and we were back at St Léger. After the dry, mild winter Malaxe was totally dry, which is very rare for that time of year. Time to man up and get stuck in properly. As it turned out, there were 2 other climbers trying the route around the same time. Sharing beta with Mick and Alma was great fun and inevitably saved time, there was a really relaxed vibe at the crag as each of us got steadily closer and closer to sending. In the end I found Mick's beta most useful: a cunning left heel/toe and right hand sloper, on the first crux, and a left middle finger mono undercut (easier to take with fat fingers than the normal undercut) at the start of the second crux near the top. It took me a long time to get the first crux dialled but, fortunately, the first time I got through it I managed to link all the way to the top. 

Succeeding on Malaxe felt like a high point and brought me intense feelings of joy and pleasure that lasted several days. However, it wouldn't have been possible without the encouragement of Elaine, patiently holding the other end of the rope. So a massive "thank you" to her. Thanks also to Blaise for his vision and equipping the route.

After Malaxe, we spent a lot more time at La Baleine. There were some more successes and, of course, some frustrating failures. That's climbing: there are good days and bad days, there are ups and downs; a bit like life in general. 

Wonderful to spend time at the crag with Michaela and Roman (Czech/Bonnieux), Cathy and Seb (every crag in France, Spain, Italy....!), Mick (France), Alma (Mexico), Filipe (Portugal), Vilja (Finland), Gaetan (Bretagne) and Aurel and Malin (France/Germany/Australia). Good to see Tansy and Keefe and Kev and Becca too.

All uncredited photos by Elaine.

1st look at Malaxe in 2021 (photo by Maria)

Elaine divvying out the wine (photo by Mike)

Aurel, Malin and their two lovely daughters

Keefe n Ruff

Tansy n Keefe

A tight fit (photo by Kev)

Filipe

Gaetan

Vilja

Kev

Alma

Michaela on Ma loi (same start as Malaxe) 

Michaela high on Ma Loi

Aurel attempting to onsight Malaxe

Mick redpointing L'Hyponténuse, which crosses Malaxe

What have us pensioners been up to this year?

Not written anything, for over a year. Not because I had nothing to write about, but mostly because I've been getting fed up of social media and the tendency of drawing attention to oneself. However, this year we've been to lots of places (many of them new), done loads of climbing, met up with several old friends and made many new ones. Undoubtedly it's been a cracking year.

Lourmarin in frosty January, last time was in the early 90s.

Reguchillo, Mula, El Queso and La Muela during a few wet weeks in February and March. At La Muela we met up with super keen wads Luken Hernandez and Penny Scully (and their crazy chicos Soca and Solo, who entertained Ruff). At Mula we spent a few lovely days with our old friends Eddie and Mandy Martinez, who were enjoying cycling in the area. Sadly, that was the last time we saw Mandy; tragically she passed away in June. 

Climbing at home and Oltra Finale (in Italy) in April and May, and doing my 8a+ training route for the 100th time.

La Baleine, at St Leger, in May and June, sharing some tufa tips with Kev Avery and meeting up with life long friends Al and Barb Stewart. Also hanging out at the crag with Yogi and Jagna (from Canada), Matt and Anna (from Australia) and Bertrand (Toulouse) and Kristy (Chamonix).

Escaping from the summer heat to Switzerland; climbing at Van d'en Haut in July with Dave and Rhian (stand out route: L'ete Indien), meeting lots of friendly Swiss climbers (especially Haf, from Bethesda, and Sylvan) and hooking up with Twid. (Last time we climbed together was a weekend in 1990, I led Wreath of deadly nightshade, on North Stack Wall, and he led Authentic desire on Cloggy, so long ago that Twid actually had hair!)

We returned home for a week at the beginning of August to help Garreth Scott install his first Digital Training Board in France, here at Art Bloc in Nice.

Joining up with the Chadster, Ben and Karyl for perfect conditions at Simplon Dorf in August.

September: climbing Triste Lune, a dream route in the Verdon. Lots of new routes in the Vercors (and meeting up with Ian and Judith, a lovely couple from Nottingham).

Returning to St Leger in September and October, making the most of the unusually quiet and dry crags. Stand out route being Le désespoir des singes.

Revisting Carros, after 22 years, to sample Manu's excellent new routes in October. Phil Ralph and Pete Blackburn (friends from Elaine's time at I M Marsh in Liverpool) came to stay and sample the climbing in the area.

And finally 3 wonderful weeks in Rodellar in November, simply because Tanya Meredith and Anna Gilyeat lured us across with tales of quiet and dry crags (normally Rodellar is understandably far from quiet). Also great to spend time with Steve Crowe and Karin Magog.

It's great to be back home and bouldering at Art Bloc. However I have injured a miniscus in my left knee, which needs attention. First rdv with Patrick Vialli (our amazing sports physio) is in a couple of days.

Special thanks to Eric and Edith, our lovely neighbours, for looking after our house when we've been away.

Climbing and the dark side of social media

A very long time ago, when the internet was a new thing and before social media had arrived. Imagine being a teenage climber, living many miles from the centre of the Universe, ie. Sheffield, climbing on obscure crags in the South Lakes, usually with your brother and often belayed by your dad. The chances are you're not going to see many other climbers (or be "seen" by many other climbers) but you're keen to progress and get better. Basically you're climbing well below the radar in a total backwater. It's the way it is, what you're used to. It doesn't matter anyway because you climb entirely for yourself. That's what climbing is all about, right?

Imagine being that same person in 1990, reading about the most important ascent in the world at that time, Ben Moon has just climbed "Hubble". Unlike most of us, this person is totally inspired and decides that he wants to follow in Ben's footsteps. He embarks upon a serious training schedule to get fit enough to climb "Hubble". He's geeky, unassuming and a bit shy but totally obsessed. He actually measures all the dimensions of "Hubble" and builds a replica in his parents' garage, reducing the size of the holds as he gets stronger. He rarely climbs outside, because he is so focused on training in his garage, besides he doesn't have a car and there aren't many locals to climb with anyway. On the days when he is getting close to repeating "Hubble" his dad drives patiently, whilst he warms up in the car during the long journey south to Ravens Tor. They always set off early to make the best of the cool conditions and after a few goes (and some progress) they're usually packing up by the time other climbers arrive at the crag. After a long time and a huge amount of effort and commitment eventually this "outsider" succeeds and realises his dream, he has just made the 3rd ascent of "Hubble". Respect! But he doesn't expect any respect or praise because he climbs for himself remember, he's not interested in being famous, he's just totally happy because he's really enjoyed the whole process, all the highs and lows during the last 4 years. 

Ben Moon climbing Hubble in 1990 (Ben Moon collection).

Our young climber continues to develop his local limestone crags, always pushing standards higher but always under the radar. He even gets taken to France ('95) and Germany ('96) by us, where he enjoys playing on "Super Plafond" and "Action Direct", there's no pressure to actually do them, he's just happy to test himself on the individual moves (which admittedly seemed a bit odd to us at the time, but each to their own, we thought). 

The years pass, our young climber is now grown up, at last he has a career, he's very happily married and he's a loving father too. He's continued to put up desperate problems on his local crags but he still operates under the radar, his friends think he's a legend and his hardest problems have achieved mythical status. 

However times have changed, we're now living in the digital age, climbing has changed and there are very few of us who practice our passion discreetly. Many of us have become narcissistic and constantly striving for fame. It's not uncommon to video yourself as you work on your latest project, edit it and post it on your favourite social media platform(s) as soon as you have succeeded, where you can get instant recognition from your friends. Not only that, there are endless possibilities to easily troll people you disagree with or you don't believe, often anonymously and without censorship from these websites. No wonder we live in an era of fake news and conspiracy theories.

Sadly, such is the setting whereby some younger (and some not so young) climbers have been casting doubts regarding the validity of some of my friend's hardest ascents. How dare they? Who do they think they are? What gives them the right to question someone's climbing achievements from almost thirty years ago, just because there's no video footage or nobody witnessed the ascent or some hotshot isn't strong enough to pull on the holds? Climbing is so unimportant really, and many of us choose to climb to escape from adhering to any definition of a normal life. However, I have only recently found out about the drivel and hatred that has been written on various forums over the years regarding some of my friend's climbing achievements (including the 3rd ascent of "Hubble"). I am totally appalled by this and believe that some have gone way too far with their character assassination of him. They should be ashamed of themselves, but I doubt they will ever apologise for all the hurt they have caused. I have no doubt that my friend did these climbs (including "Hubble", despite not seeing him actually do it). His word is enough for me. End of story.

Et dieu créa La Ramirole

Whilst we were climbing in La Drôme, a couple of weeks ago, we heard that the approach to La Ramirole (in the Gorges du Verdon) had recently been improved and was much easier. Previously it was exhausting getting to and from the crag with Ruff. I had to make the descent (via abseils, a via ferrata and handlines) with my sack and rope, leave them at the bottom and then return to pick up Ruff, put her in a large rucksack and descend again. At the end of the day the whole process had to be reversed. So La Ramirole was complicated. Plus it wasn't a good crag for Elaine, as you need to be climbing at least 8a to get the most out of it.

So, I got in touch with Seb Bouin to find out, then we went to check it out with Ruff on a rest day. Sure enough, there's only one short tricky section now and the rest is straight forward. Game on for a return and to settle the score with Et dieu créa la flamme (a magnificent 8a+ I had tried a few times in 2016, before my shoulder injury and subsequent surgery and recuperation). I was definitely psyched and feeling up for it this time. 

There were a number of reasons why I gave up 5 years ago, for example: it was too hot, it was too humid, the skin on my fingers was too sore, there were too many strong climbers using it as their warm up, and so on, yawn yawn. But mostly I gave up because I wasn't good enough. However, I felt that with a different mindset, and being in better shape, the outcome would be different this time round. 

Et dieu créa la flamme was equipped by Antonin Rhodes about 10 or so years ago, it is considered to be one of the most beautiful routes of it's grade at La Ramirole (and probably the whole of the Gorges du Verdon). It consists of 40 metres of sustained and very steep climbing mostly on tufas, sparsely protected by only 14 bolts (it definitely feels run-out). Surprisingly there are lots of good holds and lots of kneebars too, but the climbing is always very physical because the holds are usually far apart, and there is also a tricky fingery section between the floor and the 2nd bolt. Overall it's a great physical and mental challenge that is sheer bliss to try and eventually succeed on. 

The 1st day was cool and windy, perfect for working the moves and making links on the easier sections. On the 2nd day I went from the 2nd bolt all the way to the top, so it was definitely possible (unfortunately I hadn't worked out the best sequence for the difficult start). The 3rd day was really far too hot and doesn't really count. However it went like a dream on my 1st attempt on day 4, belayed by Pete Chadwick and after only warming up on the 6c.

Thanks to Elaine, Santi Garcia and Julien Bouquinaud for the belays and encouragement over the 4 days spent there during the last week. It's a dream come true and I still can't believe it!

Climbing Et dieu créa la flamme is up there with other memorable days spent in the Verdon, such as:

La Demande with Elaine in '83, taking all day, finishing in the dark and having to walk all the way back to La Palud;

Dingomaniaque with Joe Picalli, also in '83;

Le Triomphe d'Eros with Al Simpson, again in '83;

L'Ange en Decomposition with Simon King, in '84;

Surveiller et Punir with Dave Turnbull, also in '84;

Elaine and I hot on the heels of Jim Hewson and Pete Chadwick on Rêve de Fer, again in '84;

a 1 day/1st red-point ascent of Seance Tenant (belayed by my ever patient and long suffering wife Elaine in '97).

Such a stunning place to climb and so many happy memories. However, I have another score to settle with Triste Lune over at Petit Eycharme sometime. Bring it on!

Thanks to Elaine and Pete for the photos.