Other than reading loads of training books, I have continued in the rehabiltation of the finger. This has involved going outside as I know I will lose all pretence of self control if I go to the mill. After a good start this week has brought home to me all that is shit about climbing outside in the summer in the UK. Grease midges and rain. As he says in Good morning Vietnam its hot and wet, this is not a good combo. As I had made plans ages ago with Chris to go the to South Lakes for a couple of days, we did our best to ignore reason and went anyway. We arrived and went to trowbarrow as it had the best chance of being dry, the shelter stone was wet on top and so red wall saved us, fortunatly I had forgotten the guide in the car otherwise I suspect I may have chucked my toys out of the pram within 2 problems, as it was I got to give them my own grade for the time being, generally +2. All was not lost though as we both did Shallow Grave which was awesome, by this time the shelter stone had dried out and so we tried Vitruvian man, never have I adjusted so many times on the holds of a problem, no amount of chalk, megajiz or brushing would improve the buttery texture of the holds. And then it was raining again, the spot pad was used as an umbrella to keep the top holds dry, 10 minutes later I linked it all first try, trying hard to keep the faith we went to Woodwell which had condensed, fairy steps which was foul, and then to the pub. At this point home was my preferred option but Chris doesn't get that many away days so he was far keener, off to spend the night at Raven Tor.
In the morning it all seemed pretty good so off we went to Stoney for a warm up, I was shit Chris was terrible. After an hour on Pinch 2 I was getting better and given grease and sunshine and the fact I was bouldering before midday had given me enough excuses to feel OK. Next stop was to go to try Andronicus up the road. I went to check we were in the right place, pronounced it a bit seepy but OK. An hour latter I fell of the 7c arete thing going for the last move with piss wet feet and hands from the start which was soaking wet not a bit seepy. At this point home was the place to be and off we went. What a fucking shit trip, £40 to drive 400 miles look at wet rock do a couple of problems taking 20 times as long as on a cold day and sleep rough. Honestly with a combined age of 71 you would think we might know better. I guess there is no fool like an old fool.The following day I decided to go to the cave to continue the fun, I was shit in there as well. All in all I will be glad to go back inside.
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