How to Get Strong or Die Trying

Most people who know me really well, are very aware that I’m a climber who likes to “trick” their way up routes and who tries to make up for a total lack of basic power by having oodles of endurance. This becomes a problem eventually, as you come across routes with no “cheater-beta” and moves where the strength level required can’t be beaten into submission with endurance. This is problem that many of us will face over the years and in the end it’s simply a matter of recognising when the balance of endurance vs strength has gotten out of kilter. And boy, has it gotten out of line with me in recent years!

So what do I do when I’m a coach myself? Write a plan to address the basics? Do a self assessment on the functioning of my muscle groups? Nope. I start looking for someone out there that has exactly what I don’t…… Basic finger strength and the knowledge and understanding of how to gain it to absolutely killer levels. And I mean real top end. Proper pulling and hanging power. No techniquing up things, no messing around.

Coach Torr doing his thing

Coach Torr doing his thing. Photo: Pete Kneen

That’s when I met Ollie Torr. Many people will have never heard of him (unless you work at The Climbing Station or are involved in the coaching industry) as he’s very modest, unassuming and not an in-your-face poser. You’d never really know the beast that lay beneath until you happened to ask him to show you his deadhanging. The first time, I asked Ollie was when he was staying in my cellar with some mates and arrived pretty drunk, late in the evening. As I let the guys into the cellar and showed them around, Ollie started casually hanging off my client testing rung single handed – note that to hang this single handed is a score reserved to most 8b+/Font 8A climbers. He looked at me and said,

“Tom, this isn’t that hard. I thought you said this was the testing rung?”

I shook my head in disbelief and offered him a few weights to add to his bodyweight – this would show him who’s boss. Over the next 10 minutes I loaded him up with every weight I had available in the cellar and he was still hanging strong. Unbelievable! He’d just beat the scores of Font 8B boulderers and multiple 8c+ climbers in an inebriated state and having already climbed that day.

More stuff I'm rubbish at!

More stuff I’m rubbish at! Photo: Pete Kneen

I was fascinated that my perceptions of how strong a climber could be had been broken in an instant. Obviously, I invited him to come back for further testing in a slightly better state and needless to say he bettered the scores yet again. I had to do a total mental re-set of what is possible for the forearm to achieve and this really excited me. I’ve been working in coaching a long time and I’ve assessed many of the UK’s best climbers but never seen anything like it.

So, where does this leave me? It deposits me straight into the arms of Ollie Torr. The guy who’s an ex-gymnast, personal trainer, 1st class post-grad sports scientist and V11 boulderer in his spare time. I’m a great believer in coaches who combine experience and knowledge – there’s no faking years of industry experience and also you can’t just buy your way into thousands of hours sat reading scientific papers and text books. I’ve worked with Ollie increasingly over the last year and I’ve been constantly impressed by his drive, enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge.

Ollie crimping it up at Forrest Rock. Photo: Pete Kneen

Ollie crimping it up at Forrest Rock. Photo: Pete Kneen

I’m quite excited to see where all this takes me. I’ve instructed him to leave me with all the “weirdo crack training” and the “endless endurance work” and for him to concentrate on giving me that strength and power that I’ve always lacked. If you see me hanging off a campus board or fingerboard after having had yet another session at Raven Tor bouldering, you’ll now know why! :-)

Here’s to a bit of risk taking. Bring on the winter training.

The Final Round – Hard Lime

Ever since my first visit to Ilam Rock in Dovedale I’ve been hooked. The first route I tried was a ground-up attempt on Eye of The Tiger which had had all the old wires stripped out of it to make a nice pumpy and pure E7 6c. As I’d launched into the crux at the halfway mark with Andy (A.K.A. Reeve) below me shouting words of encouragement I knew pushing the boat out a bit was acceptable as it’s riddled with RPs and small wires that look amazing.

“Oop… ah not got this Reeve. Ok I’m off!”

As I peeled off the greasy crimp I started my downwards journey. Unfortunately it didn’t quite end in the place that either me or my climbing partner were expecting. I landed solidly on his head and then shoulders, accompanied by the sound of wires and small friends following me down. Luckily for Reeve he’s shorter than his wild hair bouffant makes him look and my last piece crucially held as I started to fully crush him. Needless to say the day didn’t follow on that well and I felt incredibly guilty to leave my mate with a subsequent week of no climbing as I’d injured him. The only thing that made me feel better (probably not Reeve though!) was that over time there’s been a whole host of climbers who’ve decked or near-missed on this route.

On the middle section of the Eye of The Tiger

On the bottom section of the Eye of The Tiger

When I finally went back this year and lead the line without making a cock up, I spotted what could be a route of proper hard trad up the centre of the buttress. I saw that you could approach the 3rd-height niche of EOTT by a bold sequence direct up the face and then climb through the hard crux and finally finish up a new headwall that I’d established this year. Essentially, taking in all of the hardest climbing and going direct on the centre of the face – no deviations off left or right and no easy climbing.

As I worked the route this summer a little bit, I was a bit intimidated by how hard and continuous the climbing was – all whilst trying to place fiddly gear. Normally I’m not into trad lime at all, but it’s unrelenting “sporty” difficulty lured me in. Climbing 8a+/8b on RPs and skyhooks is hardly something to be missed if you’re into that kinda thing! The one thing that held me back was that a pocket on the bottom wall kept crumbling away and it was the sole pausing point to place some ok gear. With master-mixer Gary Gibson’s help, he showed me how to reinforce the hold and make sure that it’d be the same for someone in 1 year’s time and also in 10 year’s time.

Can't beat a good skyhook!

Can’t beat a good skyhook!

After a few sessions of working the route with a visiting Japanese wad and Pete Whittaker I refined the beta and we got the bottom section down to around a very highball Font 7B+ protected by some skyhooks and microwires. I therefore headed out this week, with some slightly cooler weather, also joined by Rich Heap and Pete Kneen holding cameras. As the sequence climbed on monos it sort of seemed predictable so I set off on the route with some confidence that I had a little margin to play with should anything go a awry.

And oh how it did. The bottom boulder problem went ok and I clipped the skyhooks and moved through the “Megos move” to place the next skyhook and RP. My speed was bit below par and quickly I became surprised at how pumped my undercutting (and supporting) arm was. Ignoring the feeling I launched up for the good pocket from which to place the two micro wires for the proper crux  As I slotted the best one in I thanked my luck that at least the last part of the bottom wall I could probably ok to fall off.

Ping….! The placement broke and I was left waving a wire in the air in front of my widening eyes. Concern rising, I improvised with a new position and shook my head in disbelief that this would happen now. My nerve must have been rattled as I then struggled to get the smallest micro-rock in next to it. I just didn’t seem to sit as it normally did. I then looked down to see the skyhook at my waist had rotated out of it’s pocket and looked like it was trying to tell me the time. In annoyance I knocked it out of it’s position and watched it slide down the rope. Who needs that useless piece of junk anyway?

Rich Heap wondering - but is it better for a VCS or a Blanco?!

Rich Heap wondering – but is it better for a VCS or a Blanco?!

On quite a few of my harder and sometimes bolder ascents, I’ve picked up my game from this type of set-back but for some reason this time I couldn’t do it. Maybe it was the fact that on abseil earlier I’d ripped out two other pieces of key gear only by testing them with hand-weight or possibly it was my knowledge that I’d forgotten what gear went at the top of the route and I’d already decided I would fudge it if I got there. Nothing was quite as prepared as usual, if I’m honest about it.

Ignoring my doubts (or maybe naively trusting my ability) I crimped leftwards into the mono.

Aggh… I caught it with the thumb catch before the finger…. why?… doesn’t matter… I’ll adjust and reach left to the two-finger crozzle.

As I squeezed my left hand fingers into the shallow two-finger pocket my right hand unexpectedly started to open out.

What… what’s this? I’m failing. The good hold is letting me down. No I’m letting me down. No, it’s the feet. It’s not. It’s not the feet…. It’s the bloody mono. I’m feeling weak on it. Jesus, why now?

I did what we all do we start climbing and a doubtful move comes up. I started rocking backwards and forwards. I got the death udge and I felt myself settling into the movement pattern where your body udges, udges and udges some more until you flop off the move having never even slapped upwards. One gigantic disappointment of a move.

Just do it. Now. Ignore it….. slap like you’re feeling fresh. 

Rescue mode kicked in before I’d udged more than about three times and I optimistically threw up and leftwards to a good rail and I found myself on terrain leading into the crux of Eye of The Tiger. Normally you’d arrive here fresh, but I was toasted and not feeling that happy or psyched. For the next 30ft of the route I dug into a mental reserve that I normally save for the Crack Cellar under my house where you deal with “the unpleasant” and switch off and do the business. It’s not pretty or enjoyable but you get on with the job – and this particular one deposits you at the final headwall and the last crux.

Feeling waaaay more pumped than I'd like to be

Feeling waaaay more pumped than I’d like to be

By now I’d used up my power juice, endurance reserves and any resemblance of being mentally cool. As I tried to recover on the last shakeout holds, Rich Heap who was above me filming, heard a lot of complaining and my belayer was subjected to me telling him how it was probably game over and I’d never recover. Unfortunately for these guys, they didn’t know my cunning trick. My excessive pessimism would mean that any subsequent move on the headwall that went quite well would surprise me and I’d be buoyed up with immediate optimism for my own ability and I’d climb calmly to the top. Hopefully. Right?!

As I lunged for the mono above and caught it I was surprised by the way in which it bit in reassuringly and quickly moved my feet up. Locking the mono by my waist I screeched as deep a lock as I could to grasp a hidden crimp and rushed into the holds above. Each hold I moved off of, was a little closer to success and in the final burning moments of my forearm’s efforts I still told myself “I’m not going to bloody do that bottom bit again!”

Practicing the deep lock on the top mono

Practicing the deep lock on the top mono

Hitting the top of the route, the sense of relief was high and I was indeed very happy to not have to face the bottom section of risk-play again. Pete Kneen asked me at the base afterwards about what I was going to reward myself for doing the route, which lead me to an interesting self-realisation. These routes aren’t about reward for me – I certainly don’t feel that I deserve one – it’s more about the peculiarities of the experience. Sometimes it’s grade driven, other times it’s about the line and often or not it’s simply a project shared with a friend. I think that’s why lots of “professional” climbers get caught in this trap of stating that one minute it’s about “the experience” and then it’s “whooh…this is my hardest and best ever!” Overall they get something special out of the rock each time, but the impression to those watching (or reading) can be very different.

This route for me has been about finding my limit on a medium that I’m not that great at and exploring the balance between physical difficulty and danger. At times it’s felt hard and dangerous and others it’s been the opposite. To me the name of “The Final Round” and a grade of HXS 8a+/8b expresses everything I understand about this route so far. I’m sure others out there will fill in the blanks if they desperately want to assign an E-grade to it. All I know is that I’m putting my skyhooks away for a couple of weeks…

Filming note: whilst you’ll see there’s a trailer/teaser above, there is also a longer edit coming shortly from Pete Kneen via the Rab website for those who like a bit of hard lime and don’t mind putting up with my weird sense of humour.

See also:

All photo credits: Peter Kneen / CrimpingtonBear Photography

The Hartland Roof Crack Project: The Kraken, V13

Ever since doing the Pura Pura, I’ve been looking out for something that’d take my crack climbing in a slightly new direction. Whilst the Pura Pura was hard, Century Crack was gruelling and Cobra was painful, none have truly powerful, all-out 100% moves. I suppose that’s the nature of power endurance climbing, but it’s a factor that I’ve been very aware of in the recent years. And this is due to one thing: I know routes like Century, Recovery Drink etc are just the start. This game has got a whole lot further to go.

Century Crack 5.14b

Photo: (c) Crusher Bartlett

Where do you go when you’re puffing out of your ass on a V10 though? More stamina? Build another cellar crack? Work on your pinkie jamming? I think the answer for me lay in trying to find or climb a much (much) more powerful crack. No endurance factor, less cheater-beta and with plenty of power needed. Both Pete and I have talked about this being the limiting factor in what we’re doing presently and we know that you’re unlikely to be climbing much above 8c if you’re a stamina weakling.

Quite a few years back we both ended up in Devon on a tip off from Stu Littlefair about a mega roof crack. We got psyched and drove down south to get stuck in. Unfortunately, it rained and rained and rained. That wasn’t the issue though… it basically turned out that it was way too hard! A massive horizontal roof crack at Hartland Quay that featured 20ft of pods and pockets into another 20ft of thin hands and monos with a tricky lip turn at the end. Suffice to say we got shut down and decided that it was easier to go and climb Greenspit and All Elements / One Infinity.


All Elements, V11

Photo: (c) Mike Hutton

As Pete is off training most of this summer for his Yosemite trip, I found myself getting motivated again for some Devon action. I knew in the back of my mind that I should just commit to something that I wasn’t sure was possible as then I’d find out how far I could push my power. Most of the time, I look for the sub-max moves as you know that anything above that and you’ll never hang around for more than about 60 secs. Going back for the first session back on the project this year I was reassured that everything about it was hard. The singular moves came to together ok, but trying to link and maintain core tension whilst spinning around in the roof was desperate. All of this had to be done with little error so that I had a chance on the crux mono move.

First of the tricky moves...

First of the tricky moves…

Photo: (C) Mike Hutton

Compared with the mono on Cobra, you’re in a whole different world. No longer is it a single set up undercut mono on a 35 degree bulge. It’s long horizontal span to a back-hander mono, followed by a 270 degree spin through and hard move to a thin hands jam (which is immediately followed by a really gnarly ring-lock move). When I first tried this move I was convinced that my forearm or finger would explode with a loud “bang” if I even tried to put 75% of my weight on it. Thinking about doing the full spin on a single bad foothold seemed very unlikely! As I’ve always done though, I broke it down, learned how to pull harder on monos and introduced my forearm to the idea that it wanted to stay in one piece. Bit by painful bit, it came together over the summer.

Black & Decker highballer!

Black & Decker highballer!

Last weekend, was around my 10th day on the project and also marks around 10 years of crack obsession. As I warmed up on the roof, I was really aware that the weekend before I’d done the roof in two halves and so the pressure was on. I’d spent of week of obsessing about every possible advantage I could give myself and as I put my best boots on I thoughts of the positives. Just before pulling on though, I caught myself making a rookie error – I was about to gauge how I was feeling for the day with every possible factor in my favour. If I had subsequent doubts, how would I rest my mind?! With that, I took off my favourite shoes and put on my worn out pinkies.

With local man Gavin Atkins occasionally acting as a soundboard, I spent the next hour or so making a bit of a hash of the warm up, the lame excuses and the project as a whole. My sequences suddenly felt a bit off and my feet weren’t sticking on the holds. I knew that I’d started the usual process of getting too attached to the goal and letting expectation bring down my performance. For that I had my little trick! I slipped off my old pinkies (which in reality are perfectly functioning!) and strapped into a perfect pair of velcros. My one last psychological advantage.

The Kraken Tape Job

The Kraken Tape Job

Photo: (c) Chris Prescott / Hotaches Films

Setting off with an unusually low expectation on the outcome, I found myself climbing reasonably well. 20ft in and reaching a long way into the mono I shut out all the thoughts of what could go wrong when I cut loose and grunted my way into a dark place in my mind. As my forearm increasingly screamed at me, I kept the pace and urged my feet forward ahead of me.

Just a couple more seconds on this “f-ing” hold! Cummon… I felt every sinew straining and waited for my inevitable season-destroying injury. It never quite came and I had the thin hands jam placed and ready to release the mono. As I spun through and eye-balled the ring-lock move my body sagged a little and realised I’d blow it. Not enough in the tank. Bollocks! Gav below me shouted and I made a vain lunge at the one-inch slot ahead knowing I was off. As I dropped towards the shingle beach my fingers locked in the position I’ve done a million times before and suddenly it was game on…. on a bloomin’ ring lock!

As with many “at limit performances”, the last bit drifted by in a bit of a daze and I dug deeper than I have in some time. I’m not sure the moves were that hard, but I was drained and my body was complaining. Right at the lip I nearly hashed the whole thing up as I kicked my own hand off a crimp by heel hooking on top of it. A resulted bodge job sequence was cobbled together for a few V5 moves at the end. I’m glad that wasn’t the crux! As I dropped off the finishing jugs and onto a pile of mats, I felt utterly beasted. It seemed appropriate that I named the Hartland Roof as “The Kraken” after a mythical monster of the deep that most of us hope we never have to wrestle with. That’ll be any form of crack climbing for most people then ;-)

The Kraken, V13

The Kraken, V13

Photo: (c) Chris Prescott / Hotaches Films

First ascents are always hard to grade and I’ve waited a couple of days to think through my logic. In terms of any crack climbing I’ve done it’s in a very different place on the difficultly scale and even if you take something like All Elements at V11 or Sasquatch at V11 it’s nothing like them. Whilst I’m not the most experienced “regular” boulderer in the world, I think I’ve got reasonable reference points from the strange world of crack climbing. For me V13 seems to fit the bill, but time will tell. Whatever happens, I know this is an important step in the direction of where myself and Pete want to go with our next big trad mission…

Baguettes, Crack and Faces

At the moment I’m splitting my climbing time 50:50 for two reasons. One is that I’ve injured myself so I can’t go outside climbing all the time and the other is because I’ve learnt that long term projecting makes you extremely unfit in your other areas of climbing. Some of the best things that I’ve ticked over the years have immediately followed with a realisation that my grade in another style away from the project has dropped 1,2,3 or more grades!

As I’m wanting to clear up a load of the projects in the UK that I’ve had in the back of my mind for a few years I’ve thought it would be more stimulating to travel around a bit and get quick 1-5 day ticks on things that are of varying styles and don’t hurt my finger (or at least I can drop the finger and go without). As I’ve committed in my mind to 20+ days on the Devon roof project, I need to keep the mileage a little higher that usual as basically each projecting session is a high intensity boulder/pad hitting session. I fall off a lot more than I hang on!

One big roof. One big project

One big roof. One big project

First up, I headed to the North York Moors to see if Franco Cooksoon is as mad as they say he is and whether he’s talking absolute nonsense about the UK’s best lines being up there. Well, I’m not sure about the superlative quality yet, but…… it is pretty flipping good! I spent a day exploring High Crag and came away with the first ascent of “The Art of Non-Conformity” E7 6c which had lured me in with the project title of “Australia Crack”. I can’t resist a crack! I soloed it without pads, but I suspect that if you had 4-6 pads and a tied down belayer you could make it a very reasonable highball.

The week after I got midged to hell and realised that limestone was my only option, which lead to a final lead of the Eye of the Tiger Direct project at Ilam Rock. I tried this ground up, placing all gear on lead quite a few times last year but kept on falling at the top. In the end, my greed got the better of me and abseil inspection reduced the line to a more reasonable feeling 7c+, although placing the gear still makes it feel like the most desperate 8a ever! Especially when I couldn’t find the crucial placements at the top. I did shout “Punter!” at the top of my voice at myself a few times. I’d imagine it’s one of the harder limestone trad routes around at the moment and “Thrill of the Fight” E7 6c will reward most people with a pretty enjoyable forearm pump.

Thrill of the Fight, E7 6c

Thrill of the Fight, E7 6c

Finally last week, I snuck off to France (whilst the weather wasn’t looking) to explore a tip off I’d had from a friend about some hardcore limestone cracks in Sisteron. To warm up I scraped an onsight of an amenable looking 7c finger crack. To say I was nearly falling off quite a few moves was an understatement. I realised we were not going to get rewarded with soft grades in this old-school venue. Damn it! I did get some self (crack) respect back when I found it’s often claimed at 8a and that Britain’s strongest one-arming lawyer Ru Davies even thought it tricky for the grade. All my other friends gave me none of that though and told me if I couldn’t climb Spanish 7c then clearly this was 7b. At max.

For the next few days I ploughed some effort in an 8b finger crack called “Presence” with my partner Lucas Iribarren. As usual, he was psyched out of his mind and provided constant amusement as we flailed around on the early sessions. On the first couple of days I was left with the impression that the route was very similar to the middle hard section of Cobra Crack but without the V9 crux undercut part. What it lacked in crux beef, it definitely made up for in sustained nature. It was hard from metre “one” to metre “twenty five” and only let up a tiny bit in the last eight metres.

Presence, Sisteron

What also added to the difficulty on this route was some very spicy bolting. Both of the 3rd and 4th clips would result in deck out from 30 and 50ft if you fell off level with the bolt. Fortunately the risk had to only be taken on the initial working day as we got some decent long rope draws to make it more 8b than E9. After a few days of working the moves I had just one day to make an optimistic redpoint and made sure I got up at dawn to get the temps lower. It wasn’t the greatest start in my history because I stayed up late drinking coffee and watching climbing films and then couldn’t get to sleep until 4am as I was absolutely psyched out of my mind. The new simple formula for lesser success is Caffeine + climbing vids + project next day = no sleep! Fortunately early bird strategy paid off this time and I chicken winged my way through the top crux much the crack’s surprise. As a crack, I think it’s absolutely superb and fits in nicely at the 8b/+ (or 5.13d/5.14a) mark on a global scale. My obsessive nature was of course mainly pleased that I’d managed to tick another one off the life time list.

Will it ever end??

Summer Project Time

The last few weeks have a been a bit crazy and all over the place – mainly due to the launch of Sublime Climbing via a Kickstarter project that I started up with a USA partner, Ransom Allison. We wanted to “re-think” the climbing brush and produce something that people thought was a significant step above what’s currently available. Whilst I can’t be sure that we’ve hit that exact target, I feel fairly confident now that the response from our fund raising has been so surprisingly strong that we must have got some parts right!

More than we could have possibly hoped for!

More than we could have possibly hoped for!

It felt pretty scary doing the big launch, but after 15 days of running the Kickstarter we had over 300% of the funding at $15,000. It might not sound like the kind of numbers the big guys play with, but it feels cool to have grown this from very small beginnings to something that has promise. So thanks very much to everyone for the support!!

The mastermind designer, Ransom!

The mastermind designer, Ransom!

On to more normal things…. CLIMBING PROJECTS!!!! Oh yes. I love all types of projects but nothing gets me more fired up than finding something in my home country that I want to plough time and diesel into.

The first couple to get done when I came back from Spain were a Franco Cookson tip off in the N York Moors and the direct finish to Eye of the Tiger at Ilam Rock. Whilst neither are up there in the realms of mind-blowing difficulty (E7 6c’s) they’ve both got me really reinvigorated for UK first ascents again.

Thrill of the Fight, E7 6c

Thrill of the Fight, E7 6c

Which brings me onto the most exciting one. I’ve been looking for something for quite some time that would take my crack climbing on a significant step in terms and strength and power. It’s not that hard to find routes around the world that feature pumpy V7-8-9 sections and are fairly long (and carry big numbers like 8c and 8c+), but identifying anything with sections over V11 kinda leaves you stumped.

I went to Switzerland last year to have a look at a V13 finger crack which was cool (but not that cool) but didn’t have me thinking “my life is on hold until this gets done” and so I ended up revisiting some of the projects I’ve dabbled on in the last 10 years but previously written off as being too hard. One of these lines was the roof crack project at Hartland Quay. I tried it with Pete Whittaker when we were still to do Greenspit and it was basically way too hard. Way, way too hard! Granted we could do some of the sections, but doing everything and linking was so far away from our ability.

The crack is where you want it... in the middle!

The crack is where you want it… in the middle!

So when I went back down this year to see if I’d improved during the course of training for Century, Cobra and El Cap, I was pleasantly surprised (that should read – psyched out of my mind!!) to find it was fully possible. The moves worked, I felt stronger and my mono ability from Cobra paid serious dividends.

To have found something that is way off the spectrum from what I’ve previously done or tried (and completely plays to my own personal strengths / style) is pretty motivating. It’s given me back that deep routed drive that when you wake up every morning you want to tear the walls of the house down in excitement for training and climbing. I’m back in the zone and I’m really enjoying it!

Recovery Drink – A Norwegian Drinking Experience

Last month, Pete and I were invited on a trip to Norway to lecture at the infamous Ballestein Festival. Literally translated this is the “Ballsack (bollocks) Festival” and even has a poster of a climber bouldering a giant pair of testicles. When you get an email in your inbox asking if you’re up for presenting at a festival with this kind of poster, you know you can’t turn it down!

Yup, that's a hairy pair of balls!

Yup, that’s a hairy pair of balls!

What was even more exciting than the promised crazy Norwegian climbing festival, was the assurance that we’d have time to make a visit to try Nico Favresse’s Recovery Drink on the Profile Wall in Jøssingfjord. As a route suggested to be perhaps the hardest crack on the planet, it’s received a relatively small amount of media coverage. I suppose this is testament to Nico’s quiet demeanour and conservatism. When I asked him some questions about it before going, I knew we’d be in for a good trip. He reckoned it was one of the best bits of climbing he’d done.

Nico on Recovery Drink

Nico on Recovery Drink

Heading out with Pete Whittaker on a trip always brings it’s risks. They’re mainly navigation ones as the combination of both of our levels of idiocy brings much confusion and missed road turnings. Fortunately this time, we were hosted by some competent Norwegians and an extremely nice Canadian. After 6+ hours of driving we arrived, tired from flights, at Jøssingfjord. We’d been landed the pleasure of a 4 man bunkhouse which neatly fitted 2 climbers, a filmmaker and Cannuk.


The next day we headed up to the Profile Wall with a great deal of anticipation (and some fear when we saw how overhanging it was!) to try the route. As usual, we didn’t know how to get to the crux pitch, so made some assumptions about the first pitch and botched a rough bit of climbing together. Standing beneath the line of the route an hour later, I was blown away – oh my God – what a pitch!! Double tramline finger and thin hands crack, through bulges and all on impeccable Norwegian Gneiss.

Some Wideboyz getting very cold!

Some Wideboyz getting very cold!



Over the next few days we put some time in on the route and worked the sections and tried some of the easier links. At first glance, it all appeared to go well, with every move done on the pitch and some sequences fitted together… when we tried a “what does it feel like” link from the bottom though…. hmmmm…. quite tricky!! Needless to say, the most important thing for me and Pete was that this line stood up in terms of quality and intensity:

  1. Difficultly. It’s hard to say after trying it only 3 sessions in freezing cold and rain, but it’s similar to Cobra in terms of the hardest single moves but is way more continuous and has a longer crux. Cobra is a 5 move crux, but Recovery is maybe 10 moves or more and you’re already pretty pumped when you start! It also has a way harder finish than Cobra – of pumpy 7c+ (?) rather than vertical tech 6b+.
  2. Quality. Probably the best thing about this line is that it’s not unpleasant crack climbing. Not surprisingly, it’s quite hard to find things above 8b that aren’t utterly joint or finger destroying. It’s the long, continuous and sustained nature of the route that allows it to be just under that pain level yet still hit some big numbers. I have to say, Nico is a pretty lucky guy to have this first ascent under his belt. One of the best in the world!
Pulling through the final moves of a looooong pitch

Pulling through the final moves of a looooong pitch

After the climbing (and vowing a return-match for us both) we drove back towards Olso to attend the festival. I won’t write too much about the madness of the drinking, partying and nakedness as I’m sure Joe Kinder or Henning Wang have adequate evidence of what went on!

What I do want to say, is that I think this festival is such a great idea and the philosophy and people behind it are amazing. Firstly, the main man Lars Halvorsen runs this thing each year in a totally non-commercial style. There’s no admin team, corporate selling stands or ulterior motives. He wants to run a festival for climbers that’s about loads of people getting together to celebrate what they love and also to try and raise money for CAC.

And this was before people really got going!!

And this was before people really got going!!

Walking out of the party tent at 5.30am in the morning I could see Lars had achieved everything he’d set out to do. Well over £3000 raised for CAC, drunk and wasted climbers with no tops on lying in the grass & sweat-lined marquee and Pete Whittaker still standing tall, fuelled on pints of cider dancing his best moves to a Rocky tribute song.

Beauty, Barrows and The Beast

I have known Alex Barrows for quite a few years – although I actually came across his internet “persona” first on UKC before meeting the man who’s inspired T-Shirts to be made with the logo “Climbers Against Barrows.”

Most of the general public out there will know him for a number of reasons;

  1. Being on UKC News for redpointing hard sport
  2. Being the bad boy of UK bouldering by reducing everyone’s hardest ticks with clever knee-bar techniques
  3. For being one of the first Turbo-Punters to climb 9a.
The most hated man in The School Room

The most hated man in The School Room

It’s the getting to know the real Alex Barrows over the last few years that I wanted to write about. Not because I have a man-crush on him, or because he’s got one of the best teeth cleaning regimes out there. It’s because I want to get across to people that his recent climbing of Era Vella 9a, in Spain is only partly down to solid training methodology.

Both me and Alex are total training geeks and I’ve always enjoyed the various discussions about “how hard would it be to AeroCap the lattice board” and “why can’t capillarisation just be done at one intensity” etc etc…. but the thing that I’ve enjoyed the most is seeing and hearing his motivation.

Sure, he’s trained correctly, intelligently and consistently. BUT, it’s been with a level of motivation and psyche that is in my opinion a cut above the rest. I say this because I work with some really capable sport climbers writing their plans and therefore I know what the “Spectrum of Psyche” out there looks like! It’s pretty broad!

Font 8A and above AND... he claims to be weak?!

Font 8A and above AND… he claims to be weak?!

Over the years, I’ve become more and more convinced that the correct training methodology absolutely has to be underpinned by an equal (if not excessive) level of drive and passion for the sport. If you don’t have it, you just can’t put the hours in. Week after week, month after month and year after year. With no relapses.

The people I see who have this are Alex, Ethan Walker, Pete Whittaker and Dave Mason to name a few who I bump into regularly. People will always view these people as being gifted and having advantage over others, but in reality I’ve seen them graft so hard over the years and they always seem glad that they did. They don’t profess to having some kind of golden pill every morning for breakfast (Alex probably has Cod Liver Oil though…..) and keep psyche driving the correct training and projecting methods they already use.


So in summary, what I wanted to say was:

Alex has a beautiful training method (I’m sure many out there will be wanting to know if there is a “secret” to it!) but it’s driven by a deep-down beastliness for hard work and consistency. If we could all tap into it this coming year I’m sure we’d all be a bit closer to 9a….