Pennine Lines w/c 18 December 2023
There’s a saying or rather a sentiment expressed in climbing which we hear time and time again, offering comfort to anyone who’s just failed on their project, or fallen off something, other otherwise taken an ego-bruising; “Never mind, just come back on another day, it’ll still be here next time”. This works great, until we hit one of the rare instances where something isn’t there next time.
Pennine Lines w/c 11 December 2023
I had been regaled with tales of amazing tors of premium grit dotting the fell, and the brilliant days climbing on them as enjoyed by various friends over the years. I had avoided going up there in summer as I wanted to experience the place in cooler temps and to see it at its best, and I wanted to go with a small team for the ‘crack’ as much as pad/spotter prudence. But being a bit of a longer drive from Sheffield, and a long walk-in, and limited winter daylight, things had never quite lined up before. At some point that December I realised though that it was now or never, there was a book to be written, so I was going to have to just head up there myself.
Pennine Lines w/c 4 December 2023
Nevertheless, even a hint of snow demands some thought when it comes to choosing your venues. Crags at a lower elevation are generally favoured, as they usually get less snow to begin with. If the crags offer some problem-at-the-base-of-a-trad-crag type action, not topping out and protected from above, then all the better when it’s snowy. On this side of the Peak that usually means the lower lying crags around Stanton and Cratcliffe are preferred, similarly the Amber Valley is at a lower elevation, along with Rivelin - often a winter sun trap - and Wharncliffe. Even opting for, say, Curbar over Stanage in heavy snow can be a winner, especially as such classics as Sean’s Arete and Walk On By are, barring dripping from above, completely snow proof.
Pennine Lines w/c 27 November 2023
There’s often a lot said about the ‘perfect gritstone day’, typically implying solid clear blue sky and the sun out. Even better; the crag bathed in the last orange light of day, with someone heroically questing up a highball spine-chiller, as above. Classic gritstone, you can’t knock it.
You’ll see a lot of these on social media, living your best life, inspirational content etc etc. You can’t move for it when it happens. During the long dark drudgery of winter that little window of sunshine can do wonders for the soul, and conversely it’s guaranteed to make the blood boil of anyone unable to get out, stuck at work or whatever. But it’s not all about the perfect. Perfect is the enemy of good.
Pennine Lines w/c 20 November 2023
On occasion the prevailing weather, daylight, time and other circumstances conspire to turn certain crags into a sort of black hole, from which only objects with sufficient kinetic energy in the opposite direction can escape. Without that energy you’re well beyond the event horizon long before you’ve driven past the Norfolk Arms, and regardless of your intentions you’re going to end up there inevitably. Burbage North is one of those places, Almscliff is another. So far this November that gravity field as been well and truly in place. When self-driving cars really become a thing I will put money on most cars just driving to Burbage North automatically in the run up to xmas unless you hack the firmware.
Pennine Lines w/c 6 November 2023
On these Sundays-after-bad-weather a bit of breeze, a bit of sun and a lot of patience usually does the job in terms of providing dry prospects, and can often give some of the best conditions, once a bit of the rain-washed scrittle is brushed off your slopey topout. Not everyone got the memo though and it doesn’t mean you won’t see groups turning up mob-handed on a wet Saturday to Stanage - presumably buoyed on by the knowledge it’s a ‘fast drying crag’ - and just cracking on with climbing on wet problems, as folks were reporting last weekend. ‘Pffftt, it’s only the Plantation’ I hear everyone north of the M62 cry. Well, yes, but next week it could be Caley, or Brimham, or Widdop. First they came for Deliverance, and I did not speak out, because I was not a Peak local. Etc etc.
Pennine Lines w/c 23 October 2023
I will say that since climbers increasingly get into the ‘sport’ (it isn’t a sport obvs) via indoor walls rather than through a sort of casual apprenticeship via peers/friends/family, logically a large part of the moral imperative to ensure climbers are equipped to climb outside responsibly should fall onto indoor walls. And in fact even onto brands and companies who also make money off climbing and growth in participation. It’s also no surprise that most brands associated with climbing do next to nothing to actually take this kind of responsibility on
Pennine Lines w/c 16 October 2023
When you first start out in climbing you improve pretty fast. So your available universe of Things To Do expands away from you at an exponential rate. Every time you go climbing you get better and better, and the almost infinite possibilities offered by the world of climbing await you, like one of those big kids’ play mats with all the roads and houses and shops printed onto it being unrolled in front of a toddler with a box full of new toy cars. Every guidebook you open is like unfolding the menu of your local takeaway having just discovered that Indian food exists. A kaleidoscope of possibilities which will take you three lifetimes to devour.
Pennine Lines w/c 9 October 2023
In fact we are part of nature, and hence why being outside, climbing or whatever you do, is so fundamentally important. Even just being at a crag 10 minutes drive from the suburbs, with an ice cream van parked in the layby and tied up bags of dog muck hanging from the gates, it’s still fundamentally a different world. Even if the place has been intensively sheep farmed, or mismanaged for grouse shooting or whatever, it’s still better for us than the urban world. The wind blows, the weather changes. We’re not calling the shots out here.
Pennine Lines w/c 2 October 2023
There’s also something to be said for sensing when the prevailing winds are blowing in your direction and allowing yourself to be carried along on the breeze. This is true of Raven Tor as much as anywhere. Make hay while the sun shines etc etc. When things align and it goes your way, sometimes you’ve got to go with it - and sense when it’s time to move on.
Pennine Lines w/c 25 September 2023
Hawkcliffe was a bit of a surprise really for more than one reason - I was not expecting such an impressive crag, for such a relatively obscure venue. The rock architecture is formidable; there’s some HUGE buttresses and big bold looking routes with the odd peg (pegs that I assume whoever placed them wouldn’t have gotten away with at a more popular grit crag). The ramparts of fine-grained rock emerge from a steep tangle of rhododendrons, moss covered bushes, slippy travelator-like mud and abandoned conference-venue chairs. It’s like Wharnecliffe meets Gladiators in a crack lounge.
Pennine Lines w/c 18 September 2023
Grades are one of the things about climbing that we can’t live with, but we can’t live without. They are inevitable to some extent, but we often use them badly, we ask too much of them, and we use them inappropriately. Granted, at best they are a noble attempt to form part of a theoretically democratic dialogue, to convey information usefully, and can give people some form of inspiration and maybe much need validation, provide a lot of talking points over post-climbing drinks in pubs and online.
Pennine Lines w/c 11 September 2023
When looking back at previous Septembers in my photo archive it’s clear that this month can be characterised by see-sawing between sub-par attempts at gritstone bouldering while it’s still too warm, and limestone barrel-scraping. Always feeling like it’s the arse-end of the lime season, enthusiasm wearing thin, evening daylight rapidly deserting us, and the anything-is-possible endless summer vibe of late spring a distant memory.
Pennine Lines w/c 4 September 2023
September always feels like the natural starting point of something to me. I’m sure a few people reading this who have kids or work (or worked) in education might agree. It feels like it fits with the natural cadence of life - not just the new school year but also the seasons changing. You’re already aware that the evenings are drawing in, the bracken at the crags is starting the brown up at the edges a little. Speaking personally it always feels like a new year more than the actual New Year does.
Pennine Lines w/c 28 August 2023
But moving beyond the nuts and bolts of relaying information to you, guidebooks at their best are passports not only to X, Y or Z problems on the ground; long before you even set foot at the crag they are fuel for the fires of the imagination to burn. Although the pages of any guide are crammed full of words and photos they act as a sort of blank canvas to sketch out any one of thousands of possibilities played out in your mind’s eye. We can all be heroes when reading a guidebook. Every day is perfect weather, every hold feels good, every move made with confidence. Anything is possible.
Pennine Lines w/c 21 august 2023
‘Stuff’ - each item in of itself relatively benign; each one to solve a problem, to make things easier. To enhance performance. But in another way each one contributes to creating a problem, to changing the experience, diluting it, getting in the way of what’s good about bouldering in the first place - the simplicity. And suddenly five boulderers plus all their gear and pads would no longer fit into a Nissan Micra.
Pennine Lines w/c 14 august 2023
As I mention once or twice in Grit Blocs, in the world of gritstone bouldering we tend to look up to Fontainebleau; we borrow Font grades, and we use ‘Font style’ as the highest accolade we give to a problem. But the weird thing about British climbing’s relationship with Font is our tendency to characterise the climbing there as being exclusively rounded topouts on rippled slopers, reducing it to a stereotype and ignoring the wealth of climbing styles on offer. Font is in fact pretty well equipped with savage crimpy walls, horrendous cracks, tendon-snapping pocket pulling, steep basic pulling, one-movers, long stamina problems, low physical roofs, highballs deserving of route status and just about everything in between.
Pennine Lines w/c 7 August 2023
Fallen Slab Lip is a traditional problem, done regularly before any of the modern-era guide or apps existed, before anyone had pads, and before it had a name. The meat of the problem, the original thing, starts by hanging the big hold/ledge on the nose then hand traverses the lip up rightwards through a tricky sequence, a few really good sloper moves, until reaching an obvious good hold where you sort of run out of rock and are forced to roll over and top out.