There is much more information over at theSend.co.uk. I am really excited and can’t wait to get my hands on the full app.

On the friday, I headed back out on the slate, and Me, Llion and Katie climbed one of Ian Lloyd-Jones new routes in Twll Mawr. We climbed the left hand groove one. It was a grwat F6c, multipitched route. We did it in the evening forgetting that the nights are drawing in so Llion had to link the last two pitches to get one of us to the top before darkness fell. Although by the time Katie and I were climbing it was dark in the hole.

This is an awesome route, the first pitch was the crux, it spat me off, so pushed for time I just pulled straight back on. Katie did the same on the second pitch that is probably around the same grade, and llion styled the top pitch.

A very atmospheric route for the slate, as there were several rockfalls as we climbed the route, one of which was impressively l

Here is the link to the PDF, if you find any correction then please comment below, and I can update it. I do ask that if you use this then you don’t remove the links back to my coaching site.

I also run rope rescue skills for climbers, and can arrange dates to suit you – here.

Happy Days, Simon above the hard climbing on Heading the Shot - E5 6b

I spent the last couple of days up around the Never Never Land area, ticking a few easy and not so easy routes. Yesterday I was easy stuff, and I did a route that has to be the biggest waste of Stainless Steel since they started make trendy fridges out of the stuff.

We started up 362 a great route, and then did a route opposite the upper tier of Never Never Land, its so bad I don’t even want to know its name. Today was different as I went out with Simon and we had a quick run up a few classics. I started up Kubla Khan E4 6b, not a good way to warm up, but it blew away a few cobwebs, and I got close to total frustration trying to lasso the spike at the top. A cowboy I am not!

Then Simon nipped up Short Stories E4 6a, I forgot how awesome this route is. After that we went to Seamstress slab and I did Slug Club Special E4 6a with the spike clipped from seamstress, I dropped the ropes for simon and he did it more how intended with a runout to teh first spike.

After that Simon did Heading the Shot E5 6b, and I took some photos, and then a guy called Tom who’s on the BSc Sport Science with Outdoor Activities at Bangor, top-roped and then lead it. I then amusingly tried the Medium a F8a slab!

A great day out.

Simon Eyes up one of teh resting jugs on Heading the Shot

Tom press out a reach to a jug on Heading the Shot - E5 6b

Tom eyes up the jug at the end of the crux sequence passing the third bolt on Heading the Shot - E5 6b

After that I head up to the quarries with Llion and Bunny, I wasn’t too psyche after all the adventure at red walls, it felt rather to familiar heading to Seamstress Slab and doing Seamstress and Seams the Same. However we then went up to Yellow Wall which isn’t as familiar.

Llion lead the Great Curve, a great Little E3, although if you start it direct rather than the recommended way it is really about E2, and way easier than the E2 I did Slippery People, which for sub six footers is rather pokey for the E2 5c grade, in fact its more E3 than The Great Curve is.

After that it was Llion’s turn to climb Remain in Light a nice little E4 straight up the wall past a number of bolts, with a tasty run-out in the middle. Great climbing, although I think I need new shoes and the edges are gone on mine and so are the rands, so standing on such small edges was both desperate and painful.

The interesting thing was they were doing everything right, and whist at times it may have taken them a few minutes to tie into a belay, all there gear was great, and they could do everything without me say that much. Hopefully it will kickstart there climbing again this year, and hopefully they will alway get that weather when they are climbing.

After work I then headed up to the Crouchan for a spot of climbing with a few friends, I ran up Phantom Rib, a route that doesn’t get much better at VS. A real combination of pitches with different styles of climbing, make it great, and the Rib for which it gets its name is nothing if not impressive and exposed.

Even at 7 in the evening the rock was baking, and chalk was definitely needed up there. Although as we abseil off the mountains did was they have managed to do for years and surprise me. In the cloud formations that were billowing over Crib Coch were like a layer of smoke caught in a thermal ceiling, and bent and contorted by updrafting air. Very surreal, but very unsurprising the early warnings of the rain that was to follow shortly after.

Everyone thought I was joking at the start of the route when I warned that it might rain, despite

In the end we headed down, and went for another minor classic Blue Remembered Hills, an E3 5c, 5c. I wasn’t sure whether I was going to be up for it to be honest, as 5c on this rock is pretty intense due to the gear at times. As it was Dave lead the meat of the route, which was way harder than you’d think as it was fresh from any chalk meaning he had to battle his way upwards figuring out the rock as he went.

He did and amazing job, and the cliff lets you keep going as you shuffle from ledge to ledge with just enough rests to make you forge onto the next ledge. As he inched up the climbing looked to be pretty sustained for an E3 up there. I had sat on the belay, enjoy the glorious sun, and had all but convinced myself to back off the last pitch.

A quick pep talk from dave, and I gave it a look. After an age deploying half my rack in the first 30ft, I commited. Dave mentioned the body language I had when I first got there compared to when I commited. I have to admit that until I had all the runners in, I was pretty keen to veer left and up the top pitch of Wendigo. Having got some kit in, and decided that there was holds out right, I commited to the move up to the flake and onwards.

It was probably the first time I have really pushed myself into climbing something near my limit this year, and it was great to feel more or less in control out there, as you have some serious space below your feet as you move into teh bottomless groove, beyond which the climbing was blind. However it all worked out, and having commited I have to admit to feeling comfortable on that kind of terrain again.

Again, above the hard climbing with the end in site the type II fun style of climbing became apparent to me. I also ticked my 96th route at Gogarth, four more to do. A friend scared me the other day, as he asked what my 100th route was going to be. It is strange because I saw his point, what route should I choose when reaching this massive milestone. To be honest it will probably be just another route, but it would be nice if it was special, so any suggestions please add a comment.

The long abseil into red walls

Well, today was the day, I had been tracking it my diary since the middle of last month. It sat there like a veritable red-letter day. It read only ‘The Glorious First – Red Walls?!’, it was the first time for a few years that I was able to both not be working and have a climbing partner.

The day was a grey one, and it was drizzling in Llanberis, and according to the BBC, Met office, Met Guess and the Heights Hotel weather slate, said it was drizzling on the island as well. It was not looking good, but the charts also promised improving weather, so we drove through a few light rain showers and arrive at South Stack at about 11.30.

We head to the wall half expecting to see a mass of people rushing down there to get the first route in of the season. From the viewing gallery we saw a bare wall. As we racked up in the car park another climber rush to see if we were heading to Castell Helen and Light House Arête, much to his relief and ours we weren’t going to be fighting over our chosen routes.

I know the place is scary but I damn near jumped over the top of the cliff as I walked to the abseil, when I nearly trod on an Adder. I don’t know which of us was more scared; I’d like to think it was me. So by the time I had rigged the abseil the adrenaline was already coarse round my body.

There are two ways to reach the base of the wall, both are terrifying, with a 100m abseil rope we headed straight down the wall, which is quick and reasonably painless, however you get to see the cliff for and angle that really doesn’t fill you with confidence. Those large holds look looser from 1m out on space, the wall is steeper and the climbing looks insane.

Llion lead of first and manage to find pretty much every ledge, but the right on to belay on. Which was of course a major hilarity to the whole day. As we had taken a North Wales Rock first edition, where the topo for right hand red wall, is about the size of a postage stamp, and does more harm than good, as the topo lines are about the width of four climbers!

Anyway Llion basically led the first pitch of blue remembered hills and then reverse down to another ledge, before deciding this was the wrong one and finally finding the right one. I of course had to follow his meandering that turn out to include reversing the first 40ft of the second pitch of Red Wall.

By this time I was convinced that what I thought I knew about this route was wrong and we were in fact on a harder neighbour, as I started my vertical shuffling, only when I saw a peg did I realize that I was on a route at least.

It is only when you see that peg the real route finding starts, and for the life of me I couldn’t see a way through. For a while Bamboo was ascending faster than I was and for the life of me I couldn’t remember which way to go, as all looked utterly unappealing. For some reason I remember a foothold out left and thought it would be a good idea to stand on it, only to find another foot hold further left. As I inched my way left away from the last thing the was trying desperately to resemble a runner, there was only one thing going in my favour, and that was I could no longer see how bad the runner was. Despite my trying to visualize it as a bolt, the crumbling sandy rubble I was holding onto was making that quite hard.

Contender for the 'Worst Belay in Wales'

Eventually I am above what was below, and stood in balance on a ledge covered from head to foot in sand and dust. I have not felt that dirty since I watch Baywatch as a teenager, this thought amused me as I made the last few move to the belay. Well I call it a belay, the guidebooks call it a belay, in reality is somewhat like that toilet in Train spotting, in that as you pull onto the ledge a large typeface appears in front of your eyes that simply reads ‘The Worst Belay in Wales’, or it would if it wasn’t for the belays of Cilan Head.

Three tied off pieces of rust, a poor cam lodged in sand, a spike and what I can only described as a braced stance similar to one you might take if you found yourself in that toilet in Scotland, and the lock was bust. Pushing up and inwards with you feet whilst trying not to shit yourself is not the best belay I found myself somehow attached to.

Llion follows whilst I dig that heel in!

Llion follows and joins me at the stance, I encourage him not to look at the belay, as I am worried the pegs might snap under his glare, as they are barely holding the superlight DMM quickdraws that I used to clip them and tie them off. He disappears up and over more rubble and sand; this isn’t a place for builders, as it would just feel like work.

As he tops out the relief that the end is in sight for me as well as him is a bittersweet pill to swallow. As this is serious type II fun, the kind of experience that becomes better through the rear view mirror of life, but as I follow the pitch to freedom, I am left with the overwhelming feeling that despite the loose, sandy rock, the run outs the feeling of being adrift on a turbulent ocean of rock, that somehow that was a fun day out.

Everyone one else this season will have to eat my chalk on that route, although you’ll probably also eat a good half-kilo of sand, if the grit in my mouth was anything to go by. A nice day and great to open the Red Wall account this season.

Llion exiting the crux traverse on pitch 2

It is no sweet shop down there, the routes are never easily won, as you do battle with soft sandy rock and harder red rock, the moving in and out of the mediums make it a difficult place to adjust to.

For those six months we are barred from entering this arena of the unwell, the cliffs are home to a menagerie of sea birds, birds that only return to land for those months to raise a brood and help them fledge before they head to the skies and the sea one more time.

Internationally it is one of the largest known breeding sites of sea birds in Europe, and twitcher’s come from all over to marvel in the natural wonder of thousands of birds lining every available perch. The rock is turned white with guano, the air filled with the cacophony of calls, and then like clockwork at the end of July the birds fledge and the site is left abandoned.

In a form of vertical hot desking as one tenant moves out another moves in, the climbers who dare to play there bizarre and risky game move onto the walls and start to add there own sharp calls that break through the sound of the waves and wind.

Climbing here is nothing if not adventurous, there is gear, but how good it is one would not like to find out. The routes have reputations, and like the supporters of various football clubs, some are more notorious than others. Abseiling into the red zone is like teleporting yourself into the thick of it, on the top of the cliff is life and all the worries of existence, below is a world where the next 6ft are all that matters.

Some love the place, others will never get to grips with the style of climbing, as adventure climbing is a strange world, where all the skills of a climber come into play, the belays are hard to arrange, gear can be a joke and the climbing so delicate and absorbing that like Alice you can lose yourself down there. It is another roadside attraction for the brave, whilst holiday-makers and bird lovers watch from Ellen’s Tower with their ice creams you are locked in a battle that can feel like life and death.

As you descend the abseil rope to the base, the gravity of the place take shape as you hang in space feet from the wall watching the holds pass you by. By the bottom your pulse is racing and the excitement is starting to reach fever pitch, as you wait for the whistle to blow and the game to start.

Bring on the Red!

Anyhow, today we went to Tremadog, and I got on routes that I don’t do that much, well not all of the route anyway. Thinking I was good we ‘warmed up’ on The Plum. A great E1, only to find that someone had made the start desperate, and the rest just sustain. As well as being psychologically underprepared for the route, as I had envisaged walking up it, I was also overdressed, and by the end of the first crack was sweating heavily.

This was much to the amusement of Matt who was working on an adjacent route, who just saw my eyes out on stalks as I turned the arete, trying to place a runner, whilst the sweat blinded me. Anyway it was great after that, and I had full forgotten most of that route, until the crux on the arete, from which point I was back to familiar territory.

The next route I suggested was Vector, one of the Classic must do E2′s in Wales, and one that I am often found on when its raining, as the rock is so steep the second pitch often stays dry. However it was llion’s lead so he took that pitch leaving me the final hard pitch.

A pitch that I have avoided for many years, it is actually on a route that amusingly gets E1 called Diadec, but because you approach it from a different directions the climbing is actually easier. Anyway I stood below this groove, utterly perplexed. Almost convinced I was going to have to reverse to the belay and admit defeat. One very interesting grunt/scream/shriek later I somehow managed to morph my body into a position where upwards progress was possible, and ran up to the belay.

I often prise myself with a reasonably good memory for routes, moves and gear, however I think I managed to prove that given enough time away from a route, then you can actually forget most parts of them. My head has now stopped aching, but body has taken over in sympathy.

It begs the question, how long do you have to wait until you can ‘onsight’ a route for a second time?