Climbing 1

Pitch 3 for example, say you only had two fingers on each hand, like an accident, or if you were born that way, like a cow, no, say cows were into climbing, then they would love this pitch, it’s just two finger pocket after two finger pocket. It also tops out onto a lovely grass plateau at the top, if they were hungry. The polished footholds on pitch 1 also show the years of popularity and the time worn passing of many a climber, (they also make you want to shit yourself).

Flushed with success at our first proper route on the trip we really outdid ourselves by getting off-route on the second, Je. Still, finished straight up the crag, through a tunnel, and up a nice unprotected rib. All that remained for the day was for me to jelly my arms by dogging up a 6c (not the same kind of dogging that goes on in Fontainebleau forest).

Although the crag has suffered from such popularity that many of the routes are badly polished, it is fantastic to be able to walk off the bottom of climb in your rock boots to the truck for a quick brew.

Topping out of Le Rech


				We found Fontainebleau where everyone else had left it, just below Paris. I wasn't expecting to be blown away by a bouldering venue but it has left a lasting impression on me and I will definitely make the effort for further trips in the future. We parked up in Cuvier in the evening and I got so excited I ran up to the first boulder and squirmed all over it. I felt I had eased myself into the scene gently enough, not too many hard problems, lots of medium grades, but by day two, I was hampered by very sore arms. I convinced myself that the cause of this was the vaccines I had been given one week earlier and when I declined a problem in front of a group of Font monkeys sighting this as the reason, five of them related the same symptoms typical of Font bouldering, I felt like a pussy. So needless to say I gave up moaning and swam up a Font 6b (no honestly).

Jools and I did the yellow circuit at Gorge d'Apremont, up to 3c, 42 problems in all. It was just as satisfying as a multi-pitch classic VDiff. We had the place pretty much to ourselves as the route wound its way through beautiful mixed forest to a small summit in the evening sun. I think this is what makes Fontainebleau unique. It doesn't have to be about the grade; sometimes it's all about the journey.

At La Roche aux Sabouts I had the classic experience of being shown how to do a 4b problem by a grey-haired local. I hope it happens to you all one day, at boulder 34, on blue 36! Was really hurting today so asked Jools to fetch me a couple of Brufen from the van, these made no difference. Next day we realised that Jools had mixed up Brufen and Buscopan, at least I didn't get the shits.

After the doping debacle of yesterday I decided that a placebo was not the way to go, and so I took some real performance enhancing drugs (Ibuprophen). Onto Le Cul de Chien, let me make two fantastic recommendations to you all:

1. Get up early before sunrise, head over to the Le Tete de Chien, get set up with your camera at a low angle before the sun rises over the boulders behind you. Make several practice ascents to get the best pose possible (e.g. hanging from the nose), and when the golden rays of sun finally hit the rock, get the perfect bouldering shot for above your fireplace.

2. Take a spare set of batteries for the camera!

Spent the morning on the blue circuit of the Cul de Chein. Jools took the problems from 2a-3c and I, the 4a-5a. This worked really well for us, moving the boulder mat and getting through the circuit, a real recommendation if you are pressed for time. We only had half a day so only completed half the circuit, some of the 3c were too hard for Jools, and I struggled to do one of the 3a problems.

Headed over to Le elephant for our last day of climbing at Fontainebleau. Photos cannot do justice to this enigmatic rock feature; you need to see it, walk around and under it, and if possible to climb it to really appreciate nature's finest sculpture. I so wanted to get a good photo on it that I repeated the Noir 6a up the ear several times. Then the pain came again. Oh, that numbing bicep grabbing pain! I decided the only sensible course of action was to take the pills again...

And stop climbing.

	Le elephant

Some wee observations I have made whilst in Fontainebleau:

1. People who climb regular at Font have better bodies than those that don't.

2. More shagging goes on in the forest than in most brothels.

3. A lot has been said about Font grades and it's all true.

4. There are many similarities to the UK's southern sandstone, but enough differences also.

5. Font bouldering hurts your arms, a lot.

6. Pills take away the pain.

7. Only for a while!


			And so to Limestone, polished and pocketed limestone. We parked up at the base of Le Saussois at night and slept in eager anticipation of what was lurking above us in the dark. We awoke in the morning to discover that what was lurking above us in the dark, was rain. I rolled over and relished the respite, arms still smarting a little from Fontainebleau. About mid-day I ventured out to get familiar with the crag. Nice scale, very continental looking. There were even some tough little French lads on the overhanging 7a routes, well, if they must. I didn’t come to France to climb in typical British weather, or 7a for that matter, so I took a day off. There was one available 5c line called Martine, but as she was described as greasy and slimy and never washed, we stayed clear. The following day we headed to Bill Birketts recommended climb, La Rech 5c (don’t know if this means reach or wretch). Why is it that so often the hardest part of sport climbing is getting off the ground? If you are fancying this one, then once you’re past six foot the rest is in the bag. Not to take anything away from the climb though, an absolute beauty.


	We arrived in the car park in the Chaudefour Valley and pulled up next to a small UK-licenced astra van. The two occupants were ex Bangor University Students, which means mental in my book. Rory and Matt recognised the truck from Font and after brief intro’s we invited them for a brew. The weather was Scottish to say the least, cold, wet, clammy, misty etc. It was late morning and we were all prepared to play a bit of a waiting game for better weather. As we sat and did the usual climber banter, routes, grades, countries etc, we watched a few locals gearing up and setting off. Look, lets just go on a recce, bring the gear just in case, but mainly just see what this place is about. Little expectation of climbing we packed the sacs, hung the washing and headed out.



The walk-in is really to be savoured at this crag. As each bend revealed an ever larger vista of the massive megalith, the cameras came out and the expectation mounted. It is only on the final approach do you start to feel the enormity as such. It juts out of the ground at such an angle you feel it is listing more each moment. It looks like a giant headstone in an old unkempt graveyard.

		Matt doing 'the Sharma'

	As we reached the base, two French climbers were backing off ‘trop froid, beaucoup de vent”. Well since we were only there for a recce, no harm looking at the first pitch. Rory and Matt headed to Voie Bobo, Jools and I slipped round to the Voie Normal. After a nice 5c slab, I belayed Jools to the base of the route proper. Where we stood in the lew of the rock, the mist was streaming either side, and I thought about the other two in the full face of the wind. I somehow convinced Jools to belay me up the first pitch to ‘just see’. The rock was in fantastic condition. Solid, good friction, and plenty of holds, but cold, oooh so cold. As I stood below the crux I couldn’t feel if my hands were holding or not. I spent five minutes warming them to pull through the crux before reaching the belay ledge. I started to feel that if I could convince Jools to follow this far, then a stab at the summit may be possible. With only a little persuasion and less help Jools followed the first pitch to join me on the ledge. By the second pitch the weather was lifting a little and the body warmed, so I set off from the belay in my fleece gloves up to the crux. The crux was described in the guide as French 6a with a point of aid or English 6a without, I climbed it without resorting to aid and I can’t climb English 6a. At the top the sky cleared and the view was amazing, a geologist’s wet dream.

No sign of the lads from Bangor at the top and I suspected that the icy wind would have forced them to retreat. We rappelled from the summit in a single 50m abseil and it was only at this point did the reality of the amount of lean on the block became apparent as Jools swung out round the side of the cliff and out into free space landing 10m from the base. We gathered ourselves and headed down. As we rounded the windward side of the block, Rory and Matt were just topping out, as I thought, Mental.

Bill Birkett states that Le Rancune is climbable from late May to October inclusive. We would like to add November the 1st to that. But not the 2nd. We awoke the next day with the thermometer reading -2oC as winter had set about the mountains with a big white shitty stick.


			Above the town of Millau there is a Via Ferrata, this translated literally means ‘Iron Way’. It is a series of metal steps and holds, anchored into the rock, protected by a long cable. With the right equipment and no real climbing experience anyone can get the exposure and some of the feel of what the rock monkey’s love so much. Although Jools has experience of big climbs, this was her first ever Via Ferrata and I had only done one before. Even for someone who has a lot of climbing experience there is still a lot of thrill to be had from the exposure. Although you are protected from possible fatal falls, there still is a risk of serious injury with a misplaced step, however unlikely. The weather was fine and warm and the route difficulty rated as TD with overhanging ladders, a suspension bridge, and 2 monkey bridges. We are looking forward to doing more in Andora.


				On the way to Gorge d’Héric we must have passed acres of rock, edges as long as Stanage and buttresses as high as Gimmer, it seems to me that the French have so much rock they don’t know what to do with it. In the gorge the climbing was fantastic, it was frustrating to be only scratching the crags closest to the track whilst looking skyward to the huge buttress further up the mountain but the rock was solid gneiss, and the warm sun kept the spirits high. We arrived in the afternoon so started with a few single pitch sport routes on Beylot Ferrand ranging from 5a-6a. The last was an absolute peach, 25m of continuous movement and thought at 6a, move upon move, flowing one after each other. Jools seconded it with only a brief rest on the rope to work out the crux, it was some of her best climbing yet.



	We made an early start the next day, but being unsure of the whereabouts of the start of the route we were looking for, ended up behind two slower groups on a multi-pitch 4b, Voie Normal, on Tête de Braque. This was Jools’s first lead climbing in France and it did allow a leisurely pace to adjust to the bolted belays and route finding. No problems on this route and thoroughly enjoyed the respite from rock shoes. Flushed with success and managing to skip ahead of the slower parties on the descent, we decided to try the recommended route in Bill Birkets, French rock guide. Le Roche Marre. 100m VD, 2c,2c,3a,3c,3a. was a little more jittery on this route and I think it was due to the more difficult route finding and absence of pegs on the lower section, but finally we landed below what is describe as a smaller version of the Cioch on Sron na Ciche. A few difficult moves lead to an exposed move round a corner (somewhat similar to

	climbing into the saddle on ‘Little Chamonix’). At this point Jools lost the bap. “I hate you, you bastard, making me do this” tears starting to well, “Can you see the next bolt”? I shout, “No” she cried, “Yes” she smiled, and off she bounded up the rest of the route. On the walk down I felt the urge to get back on the road again, and as it was only 3pm we hit the road.


			We had two objectives for Andora, both Via Ferratas. The first was at Crag Roig ski resort, a good walk in and a high finish. The route was not technically difficult or steep but the situation was good and the walk down was through some beautiful scenery. The second was more technical, steeper and more exposed, a directisima up the main rock face above Canillo town.

It was an ambitious plan to say the least. 550m of 6a+/Ao, 16 pitches in all. It looked like a lot of IV-V to speed proceedings along, and maybe I could lead it all, maybe. The alarm sounded at 6.30am, but outside was dark and the stars still hung around urging us to stay in bed. Morning rose slowly in the valley but by 8 o’clock it was light enough to climb and we were standing at the base of the wall craning our necks skywards. This was the easiest line up the middle of the face and the early polish bore testimony to the traffic. What I wasn’t ready for however, was the basic lack of cohesion of the rock on such an obviously popular route. Madly enough, as the technical climbing seemed to ease off so did the protection and the solidity.

Time was of the essence as day length was short this time of year, style was compromised for speed and upward progress the main priority. I ran the first two pitches together spacing the gear from the