pic - Alex reaching past all the hard moves on everything!
Or so it seemed, why else would the thermometer say
25degrees! But it was still only February 8th. A dream for most,
blazing sunshine, five days in a row without a cloud or a breath of wind. But
you can’t please everyone, and I couldn’t help but let out a little whinge as I
slipped off the last moves of Blomu, a 35m 8c+ at Santa Linya. The route bakes
in the sun from the moment it rises to the moment it sets, and I was not keen
enough to be at the crag and warmed up before the glassy slopers turned to
soap. Being British though, whinging is to be expected!
But it was only a small whinge. At this time even
is a gamble. Last year we betted on Misja Pec, and lost. This year Catalunya
was a top bet. Conditions were compromised in the sun, but primo in the shade,
it’s all a matter of choosing the right routes. My window was a small one with
just 4 and a half days away; it seemed short in advance, but now, a day after
returning, my battery feels fully charged. At least my Vitamin D is up there! We stayed at the house of Tom Bolger and
partner Lynn, and spent a few days at Santa Linya, or ‘The Cave’ as it’s known.
They live within a stones throw in perhaps the most idyllic pad I’ve seen.
Breakfast on the balcony in the sun before strolling down to do battle. Tom is
in the zone and knocking out the 9’s. So far he’s up to 9a/+, but I watched him
pushing hard on a 9a+. The start holds look like buckets as he floats up, but I
look closer and realise I can’t pull on them. Then after a lot of moves he’s at
the crux, a contorted position in a horizontal roof on awful holds leads to a
massive stab to a poor mono. Then with feet smearing it’s another reach off
that to a bad crimp. Apparently its font 8a+ for just that bit, but the style
makes me cringe. I won’t be on that!
So I take a more relaxed tact with Rab Carrington and aim
for the hills away from power and steepness. The area of Villanova De Mela is
beautiful. It has a mountain feel, fresh and remote, but is actually just an
hour from the towns. We opted for a 4 pitch route, high above the valley floor that
was still frosted and dark in the shadows. The route was immaculate, not a
speck of loose rock, every move perfect, never hard, never easy. Belaying at
the top in a T-shirt it’s easy to see why anyone would fall in love with
climbing. Surely this is what it’s all about, the true essence of our sport.
But somehow I’m back in the cave. My second morning on this
route made it clear that I could have done it, would have done it, if it had
been cold. I was happy with that. Two quick sessions to nail an 8c+ is good
going. It was pleasing after such a long lay off. But I hadn’t actually done
it, so I was back next day 40 minutes earlier and battling up the warm up with
frozen fingers, but knowing in less than 90 minutes I’d be sunbathing in my
shorts. This time, with a tick in the bag, summer felt far more agreeable!
