Lesson 1

Shoes

Climbing shoes vary from climber to climber. Some climbers like shoes that are comfortable to wear for long periods of time. Some climbers like shoes that can only be worn for about 10 seconds before being reduced to tears because of the agony (possible over-exaggeration). Personally, I've gone for the in-between shoe because I'm new. Didn't want a shoe that would give me a false sense of comfort but didn't want a shoe that would destroy my feet.


The purpose of a climbing shoe:

Grip - Just like slick tyres on a race-car, rock shoes are flat rubber with no tread. This means the surface area of the bottom of the shoe is optimised when climbing. The rubber is soft too, not hard like on hiking boots, which means.. well.. it means it grips better, ok?

Shape - Rock shoes shape your foot while they're on. It's a little hard to explain with words, but I'll give it my best shot. Basically they cram your toes together, and point them all to the same place. So instead of your toes being straight out, they're all pointing to a… point… Girls with high-heels will probably be able to grasp this idea better than us guys, but the whole point of it is to make your whole foot more rigid, and for pressure to be directed to a smaller surface area - namely your big toe. This aids climbing, take my word for it. More aggressive shoes also bend the arch of your foot so that it works a bit like a bridge over a river or a talon or something. Unsupported bridges use an arch and a keystone, the same idea goes with aggressive climbing shoes - it means more weight can be applied to a smaller area at the expense of comfort.

Coolpoints - Talking point amongst climbers comparing how aggressive their shoes are. May as well measure penis length.

I've learnt to rely on my shoes a lot, and believe that the grip is enough to hold up my full weight. A couple of climbs now I've had to trust that my feet (the grip and the strength of my feet) will hold me, and they have. It's a bit of a leap of faith but you have to take it, so you know what grip feels like. Last night at the wall I had my full weight on a tiny hold with just the tip of my climbing shoe, like a ballerina on tippytoe. /feelsgoodmang - didn't complete the climb /sadface but still, awesomeness.

Malarky

I tell you what, this blogging thing is all of a sudden getting quite complicated. What the hell is FeedBurner and what it is used for? I don't understand it. I'm trying to find a way to link my twitter to this blog so that when I post something new, twitter followers will know about it. And I still don't know what the hell RSS feeds are actually supposed to do.

I need to get my head around this shit, really. Maybe some other time.

Going climbing tonight, yeeeah! I'll buy myself some nutbars for fast energy because I love wasting money.

Fontainebleau

Fontainebleau, also knows as "Font" is one of the most loved and possibly famous bouldering sites in Europe. It's south of Paris (in France(in case there are any Americans reading this(gotta love racial stereotyping))) and is pretty much a town near a forest containing really, really big boulders. Me, Rebecca and David drove there from England in about 6 hours on a Sunday morning, so when we arrived and set up our tent we got a bit of climbing in before sunset. The travel distance between our campsite and the bouldering areas is easily done by car, but it might take you a little while if you're on foot.

I learned a lot about climbing in the 4 days I was there. First off, I have some natural ability. Some of the moves I do to get myself up routes are a lot more advanced than they should be considering how little I've climbed. Apparently certain things climbers have to learn to do come naturally to me. That's pretty cool, coming from people who have climbed for 4 years longer than I have. Some of the routes I did with David and Rebecca really, really surprised them. I remember one route that David was working on for about 15 minutes. After he worked it out and did the climb, I completed it 5 minutes later. Rebecca (mostly because of her height I'm sure) couldn't do it. That particular route didn't require a lot of strength, but what it did require was fluid movement and balance and weight distribution on a very small amount of rock. I didn't have a lot of experience with this type of climb but it seemed, once I knew how to do it, quite easy.
Originally I was all about powerful moves that required a lot of arm strength. I've always been pretty strong naturally, because I've got the same build as my father, so I've always felt comfortable pulling myself up something with pure strength, will and determination rather than careful planning, balance, poise and grace. But after a few of these routes, powerful or "pumpy" ones seem less and less fun to do and impossible for a beginner like me to sustain such physical activity for a whole day. So we started looking for other types of routes, described to me as "crimpy" - These are so much fun and so scary. When you're 6ft in the air and all you have is an outcrop of rock an inch wide and 3mm deep to stand on while you're basically spread-eagled, you have to be calm and slow and good at shifting your weight. If you had a good hold it doesn't seem nearly as worrying. I did a route like this after working at it for a good 15 minutes. I tried it after David, but the position his route put me in was impossible for me to shift my weight onto my other foot. After Rebecca attempted it, she worked out a new position for my left food which would enable me to shift my weight, blah blah blah. So after that bam, just did a (for me) really fucking hard, flat route that when you look at seems impossible to climb.

Fontainebleau is full of routes that will test beginners to professionals, and I can't wait to go back. Pretty much love french bread and cured sausage and cheese for lunch too, mmm.. So yeah, I'm now hooked. Can't wait to get back to the walls in London Bridge and go do some crimpy climbs that I avoided before. I'm looking forward to writing down what I learn, what I find interesting, and what is now my Official New Hobby. After these massive paragraphs I don't think the posts are going to be as long. There's a lot more detail that could go into these paragraphs too but it's pointless really. I'll do a round-up of what I've learned already in my next post.

Peace out, no-one!

The Arches, London

The Arches is the climbing wall I go to, located in London Bridge. It's built inside one of the railway arches of the actual London Bridge overground and therefore infinitely cool. Rebecca and David live in Reigate so their "local" is craggy, which means when I go to the wall, I go alone. Still, I've only been going a grand total of 4 weeks and already bumped into an old school friend who climbs so that's a start. I'm hoping to get to know the people who work there and the climbers who go there more frequently. 'Cos I like doing photography I might also even get a chance to go with people from the wall on trips they do around the country. Maybe get some of my pictures posted up online, on something like Flickr (I signed up recently (today) for that very reason) or even on their website. Or even a magazine. That would be cool, though I realise it's aiming quite high. I have aspirations for being a Climbing Photographer in my spare time, when I'm not in the city rolling out Mac systems to massive corporations.

It's a cool place to climb, I reckon, though I've not been to any other walls in the City. I hear that Castle smells though.

The Deep End

I'm going to pretty much disregard my first three times climbing for one reason: I didn't actually learn anything. Those times on the wall were on very easy routes that were a little bit like ladders for me. If anything a bit harder came up in front of me, I just used strength to get around it and I was done. I guess the only thing I could take from those climbs is that I'm not scared of heights and I don't get vertigo. Pretty sweet thing to know if you want to be a climber - but I already know people that climb that don't like heights. It's not a deal breaker, it just makes doing routes a lot more exciting I should imagine.

So, the deep end for me was The Roaches in the Peak District. Rebecca and David both trad, so they're the ones going up first and laying down the anchors while I wait at the bottom and watch. It's ok when you're in a group of people because you can talk while you wait. I didn't realise that climbing was such a social sport until that point, because we were all just chatting away while Rebecca was doing the hard graft. When it was my turn to climb up the gritstone, David suggested I put on a pair of rock shoes. They were his old ones that were "my size" and they're more grippy than the hiking boots I was wearing. I thought that was fair enough, and put his shoes on. And then immediately took them off. For those that don't know, climbing shoes are tight. Apparently some climbers go over 2 sizes smaller than their normal shoe size for some climbs because it gives them better grip. At the time I thought david had bare-faced lied to me about his shoe size and was trying to make himself more manly or something in font of his friends, because he couldn't bring himself to tell me and therefore everyone else that he was actually a girly size 6. It turns out this isn't true, but anyway I just said I'd climb in my hiking boots. And that's what I did. It was an easy climb, there was a top rope so if I fell nothing would happen, and besides I had my hands and that's all I really needed to climb with. So up once, down once, then wait for everyone else to do the climb too. That wasn't what got me hooked though.
I am an amateur photographer and while Rebecca was doing the beginners route top roping, David and some other dudeface decided to do another face of the rock which was a lot harder and more suited to him, Rebecca, and the other climbing buddies that were with them. While I was waiting for my next turn on a different route I grabbed my camera (Nikon D60) and went on a little hike around the back of the rock face so that I could get to the top. From here I hoped to get good shots of the people climbing.
Mostly, when climbers go climbing with their friends, the only shots they get of themselves doing routes are from behind, and below, which means that basically they get a lot of photographs of their asses. I wanted to get some facial shots and movement shots and reaching shots and all manner of other shots, if I could, so I had to get myself in the right position. Because I'm an amateur photographer, doing these extra things isn't a chore for me, it's pretty fun getting a great picture. So anyway, there I was lying down on top of a massive rock outcrop like a military sniper taking shots of the climbers trying to get up this rock face. It was high an really windy and a little bit damp so not ideal for climbing, but if you're at the roaches you for a weekend, you fucking climb. The smoothness of the rock face they were climbing on stunned me. I had no idea this "style" of rock climbing existed. I thought it was all big holds that you can swing out on and hang from like a monkey, not this tiny slither of rock that isn't much wider than a 1p coin holding the full weight of a fully grown man. I got a few shots of the footholds and the handholds they were trying to reach for while trying to get the scope and the height of the rock face in view. That was all before 12am. That's not what got me hooked.

After a spot of lunch (my arms already felt weakened because of the climbing I had done) Rebecca and some other chap wanted to go out and do something called "bouldering" - I was up for anything so I went with them and they taught me what the idea behind bouldering is. I did a few routes in my hiking shoes (to the amazement of them both) but most of the things were just too hard for me because the footholds and handholds were tiny. The chap, let's call him Frank, explained to me that the shoes help a lot because of how you can use them on the rock - That's when I realised that if I wanted to do any "proper" climbing this weekend I had to stick on those David's tiny shoes. His shoes were a size 8, and I'm a size 9, so just imagine getting a normal shoe a size too small and cramming your foot into it so your toes curl up at the knuckles. That's totally normal for a climber to have shoes at least 1 size smaller so I decided, the next day, the Red Chilli's (the rock shoes) shall be worn. I can't really remember what we did for the rest of that day. I think me and Rebecca went shopping or something, but I don't think I did a lot of climbing afterwards.

The whole idea of bouldering is that you do everything any other rock climber would do, but in a very short distance. For instance, the hard route the other climbers were doing while I was taking pictures was really easy at the beginning, but the last bit of the climb was where it got very very difficult to do. If you can imagine exactly the same route on a big-ass boulder about 8ft high, missing out the beginning bit, the hardest part of the climb is lower to the ground and therefore you don't need a rope to do it because if you fall, you'll just land on a nice cushioned bouldering mat. But you still have to do all the technical stuff to complete the climb. Ok, it's not high, but climbers don't climb solely to get high up in the air, otherwise they would just use a ladder. Using your muscles and your fingers and toes and brain and braun to get yourself up something that looks impossible is where the fun lies. And that's where I got hooked, on the boulders. It's so accessible because all you need is shoes, chalk and a crash mat. You can do it alone or with a big group. You can do easy ones or you can do really difficult ones.

During my time in The Roaches I attempted maybe 15 different routes, most of which I didn't complete. But while I was doing them, everyone was watching me and cheering me on and were really, genuinely exited when they saw a novice trying a route. They were cheering me on to grab that next bit of rock that is only an inch away. They were genuinely proud of me for retrying the same thing over and over again and never actually making it. I would watch them hang upside down from holds no deeper than soap dishes while swinging their heels over and pulling up their full body weight to grab a hold a good arms length away above them, or see them slowly go up a vertical rock face using only their toes and fingertips. And the whole time there was talking, laughter, pictures being taken and the spirit of really really good natured competition between the climbers. That's what got me hooked. I drove home after that weekend and maybe two days later got myself some bouldering gear and that week signed up to a bouldering wall in London.

Really, really fucking fun.

A word on the title

I suppose a brief history on my climbing experience is in order. I don't know all the dates accurately, this isn't a CV, but I guess anyone that would read this should at least know how far into climbing I am at the point of starting this blog.

1st climbing experience: Dordoigne, France, on a school trip with my primary school. It was sport climbing if I remember correctly and I think I only went up once because there were like 20 classmates right behind me waiting for their turn. Uneventful, didn't really do much for me at such a young age. Wanted to go and shoot arrows.

Though, really, my first climbing experiences would've been much earlier and frankly I would've been climbing for many years prior and after that event. Really, when you're a kid, climbing is as natural as knocking on neighbours doors and running away. Walls, trees, fences, rocks, drainpipes, side of buildings, in and out of windows. It's just, as a kid, the obstacle was never the wall or the tree, the obstacle was whether you got into trouble for it or not. The thing on my mind would've been plausible deniability, not whether my hands could hold, if my fingers were strong enough, or what to do once I got up whatever I was climbing.

2nd climbing experience: NZ - I was staying in a hostel called the Green Monkey (Sunny Nelson) and I was bunking with a few people that went climbing some evenings. They seemed like a good bunch and one night they asked me if I wanted to tag along. The walls were high and I did some sport climbing and learned how to belay with a grigri. This time I enjoyed it quite a lot, because it put my strength to the test more than anything else. I asked why there was small wall with holds, and got a pretty offhand response that it was bouldering - a type of climbing that requires no ropes. I didn't see the point in it at the time and thought it was a sort of easy way out of REAL climbing. The type of climbing you do with ROPES and METAL CLASPS and HARNESSES. You know, the dangerous Cliffhanger type climbing that will get you killed if you're not totally skilful and amazing and strong. The person who was "teaching" me said I was a natural. I actually got quite a buzz out of that but then thought, pessimistically, that she probably tells everyone that to give them a sense of achievement and more confidence.

3rd climbing experience: My hippy cousin Rebecca (hi if you read this, lookin' forward to permaculture thing in the park) and her babydaddy David are climbers of about 3 (±2) years now. They invited me along to David's birthday where they had rented out the Don Whillans Memorial hut in the peak district. I said yes because, after coming back from Australia/NZ I had a bit of a traveling/outdoorsy/photography bug that would lend itself perfectly to the north of England, a place I had never been to before. It wasn't because I wanted to climb all that much. That long weekend in the peaks is the point in which climbing turned from something I had done a bit of in the past to something I wanted to do a lot more of in the future. The scenery was epic (I get a bit patriotic when I see green, rolling hills of England. Bring me my spear of burning gold etc) and the weather wasn't terrible and I was outdoors doing something a bit dangerous. Rebecca is an instructor so she put up a top rope while I and other waited down at the bottom. This was a little bit tedious because the wait is so long, and eventually when I did the climb I found it quite easy (Rebecca (Rebel, as I call her) knew we were all beginners so found an easy climb, I'm not some climbing savant or anything) I had fun, don't get me wrong, but I didn't know of any other type of climbing. Anyway, this is all getting far too fucking long, so basically one day we did bouldering as a group on gritstone and I was hooked. I got back from that weekend, signed up to The Arches climbing wall in London Bridge, got myself a pair of rock shoes and a chalk bag and I've been climbing there at least twice a week since.

Climbing experience 4: Last week I went to motherfucking FONTAINEBLEAU with Rebecca and David. They had it planned for ages and I just rocked up with them. I've been climbing less then 2 months and I've been to The Roaches and to Fontainebleau. I count myself very fortunate that I got the opportunity to go to such amazing places so early on, and I think it has set me up for many future years of epicness.

So yeah, back to the title. In the Don Whillans Memorial Hut, there is a plaque erected there by Don's wife. I can't remember exactly what it said, but it was along the lines of "To Don, a True Man of Grit" - The type of stone up in the roaches is Gritstone et voila, I want to be a man grit too. So this blog is going to document my METEORIC RISE TO CLIMBING FAME (probably not) and I'm going to fill it with anything and everything to do with my climbing experiences. I want it to be informative, interesting and hopefully funny in some places. I want anyone who reads up about climbing and wants to start it themselves to stumble across this blog and enjoy reading it from a real beginners point of view, instead of being written by a pro looking back and trying to remember what they didn't know back then. I've got a few weeks to catch up on obviously, but that shouldn't be too hard. Stuff I have learned already is still fresh on my brain.

So, to anyone that stumbles across this - really, really sorry about the wall of text. You don't have to read it, it's not exactly important, but then this is my blog so screw you for being bored.

Here goes.. I'm off to find the grit.

Rick