The Day I Sent Odin's Eye

On Wednesday morning, Flatanger awoke to wind and cool temps for the first time in weeks. It's late in the season, so those of us remaining have been here for quite some time. We all have projects we aren't certain we will do, but we are all a bit more excited than normal, courtesy of the day's conditions.

I've changed my barn warm up routine a bit. Instead of warming up on progressively harder boulders, I do some long circuits. After 30 min or so in the barn, we head up!

Stance after the first crux

I head up with Mina, who is nearing the end of her second trip here this season. She's persistently tried Nordic Plumber, ever since sending Nordic Flower to its first anchor. She sometimes seems conflicted balancing strategy with stoke, but it's refreshing to see that kind of stoke for climbing.

I let her tie in first, so she can dry the first 4 bolts of her project. Once she's done, I do my own warm-up/dry holds lap. I climb the first 3 bolts of Odin's a few times, and then carry on to the wet undercling crux with some takes. I brush everything, dry the undercling as best I can, and come down.

Definitely don't clip here on point...

Over the next hour, Mina floats to the sloper rail on Nordic Plumber. After a long rest, she sets off and passes her highpoint. With the whole cave psyched and screaming, she clips the anchors and kicks off what would become an incredible send train.

I warm up once more with the hangboard and some full body exercises, then take off on Odin's. I feel no better or worse than normal, but I can tell conditions are great. I get through the first and hardest crux pretty well, and settle into the rest. After a long shake, I set off on the traverse. The undercling crux goes well, and with a substantial amount of pump, I arrive at the kneebar in the eye.

Kneebar rest before the redpoint crux

Here, I shake for a really long time. Eventually I stop the leftarmrightarmleftarmrigharm pattern, and it becomes, left arm, right arm, left calf, repeat. After another very long shake, I set off on the leftward traverse into the crux. I arrive feeling fresher than ever. Fresher than if I'd just asked for a take. Feeling very relaxed and confident, I go to make the big move statically (as I have done off the hang), and come up short on the positive part of the dish. Despite not having the holds right, I'm fresh enough to continue, getting the next hold poorly as well, and then falling on the next move.

I was an odd mix of peeved and encouraged. I was encouraged to have gotten to the crux feeling 100%, but peeved that I'd wasted it by not climbing a bit more aggressively.

In my long break after this burn, Edu sends Odin's Eye as well - which he's done a number of times now as he tries the 9a/+ extension, Valhalla. He had linked the entire second pitch that morning, which is 8c/+ by itself. Our friend Esteban sent his project, Gusanito (8a+),  as well. The train was rolling and it was time for me to have my next attempt.

Halfway through the first (and hardest) crux

I climb the first crux quite well (or so I thought - Mina said I looked a bit tired compared to previously). I arrived at the kneebar rest feeling the usual amount of pump. Bizarrely, the pump drains in half the time it normally takes. I was hesitatant to leave the rest so much earlier than normal, but I'm typically more keen to take risks on my second try so I went for it.

Kneebar rest before the wet traverse

I climbed very well to the undercling crux, though by the time I arrived at the kneebar in the eye, I was as pumped as always. Yet again, I felt recovered in half the time it normally takes. I have no clue why this happened, but I told myself to make sure I still climb aggressively, no matter how fresh I feel.

This is sort of the deciding move. If I hit this hold perfectly, I had a good chance of sending.

The traverse felt solid, and I arrived at the right kneebar and two juggy underclings fresh enough to shake each hand before proceeding. I swapped to the higher left kneescum (in the photo above), and feeling totally fresh, threw to the dish. The positive indent on the right side caught my pointer finger perfectly. I sunk the left kneescum deeper, crossed right hand to the bone hold, and dropped my left hand to the undercling/sidepull. From here, every move is a highpoint. Raise the right toe hook, throw to the jug with confidence, and done.

After sticking the jug and swinging left.

Or am I?

I'd now stuck the hold from which I told everyone I wouldn't fall. And as I release the right to hook and swing sideways to the far left foot, I miss. On the second swing, I catch it but not quite right, and the drop into the sloper with my right hand feels strenuous. I swing again, to the right side now, and move up into the fingerlock. One last pogo-esque maneuver, and I'm at the kneebar rest.

Once in the rest, my mind starts racing. It's easier to focus when you're executing hard sequences, than when you're sitting in a kneebar above your highpoint, staring down a v5 and a v6 sequence above you. Once I'd collected myself, I floated through the v5 sequence and sunk into the last kneebar rest under the v6.

Cue nerves.

The next 5 moves would dictate whether I clip chains and collect 1250 points, or alert the whole of Flatanger with a nordic wobbler.

While shaking in the right kneebar, I felt my right kneepad had slid down over my knee. There is no left kneebar here, and the holds aren't really good enough for me to hang and adjust my kneepad, so I decided not to shake my right calf at all. If I did, then the pad would slide down further each time I sunk into the kneebar again. After some very stressful minutes, I said "Ok, Mina!"

The potential heartbreaker at the top.

I brought my right hand into an undercling by the kneebar to release it, and was overwhelmed by nerves. "No, I'm resting more."

Awaiting my own performance on the next five moves was agony. Would I have enough juice? Would my left foot stay on the polished smear?

Some time passed and I decided to go. I released the kneebar and now I couldn't turn back. I quickly realized how far I'd redlined my right calf. I could barely stand on my right leg. It felt like I had just run a marathon hopping on one leg. I was executing moves quickly and precisely, but my mind was distracted by the feeling in my right leg.

Moving along the jug rail after the last crux

With a lot of effort and a bit of screaming, I made it through the final crux. I got to the left kneebar at the last bolt, shook for a bit, then climbed the easy terrain to the anchors. I paused on the hand jam before pulling up my rope to clip. A smile - unrestricted and genuine - crept onto my face. I pulled rope and clipped the anchors on the end of a project, the end of a chapter in Norway, and a sliver of an answer to a question I have always wondered - what could I do if I committed all of my time to climbing?

Here's to continuing to find out.

I Won't Say I'm Homesick

We celebrated a smashing birthday dinner last night for one of the friendliest faces in Flatanger - James Riley! He's been here about as long as I have, and he's been a tremendous help around the house and crag. He's a gifted chef, and his birthday presented an opportunity for the whole campsite to come together and not think about climbing for an evening.

After delicious mackerel appetizers, a dinner of moosesteaks as tender and soft as our projects, and an entire bottle of cheap American whiskey (thanks John), I awoke to a beta map of Odin's Eye drawn across my chest with everyone having signed their respective highpoints along my torso. And with that, we are back into project mode.

One of my bigger successes here has been embracing bigger challenges (i.e. harder routes). In the states, I tend to try as hard as I think is reasonable given my present level. Here, I tend to try as hard as others think is reasonable for me. What a subtle, substantial contrast. It's actually been relieving to attempt routes I thought were beyond me, because I feel little pressure to perform. But optimism, at least for me, is impermanent.

I won't say I'm homesick. I don't miss my bed, my house, CERTAINLY not my school. I love my family but I stay in touch well enough to not long for them either.

Here's what I miss: Adventure.

And it seems silly. I'm across an ocean, living with people from every nook of the world, surrounded by a language I can't understand (except for "take", "fuck", and "mayonnaise"), climbing on a rock type and style I've never experienced, without cell service or a laptop, and I'm alone. Yet I struggle to find adventure.

Frankly, it's all been so easy. The novelty of the experience is an equivalent rush to the uncertainty of adventure, but novelty is a temporary feeling. As humans, and especially as climbers, we are creatures of efficiency. Do something long enough, and a routine inevitably develops, and routine is boring.

The last month or so I've felt Yosemite creeping into my thoughts. This week, I've had several dreams taking place in the valley. I long for early starts, aching toes, raw cuticles, and the world's most inspiring playground.

I think I've come to terms with leaving Flatanger. I need change. I'm not giving up on Odin's Eye, despite coming close to quitting a few days ago, after falling on the same move one too many times. I have 12 days left, and if I leave without sending, it will still have been a more successful trip than I would have dared to imagine. Besides, there's not much else I can climb here with 4 quickdraws (my entire rack of draws was stolen a few weeks ago, but I had/have 4 on Odin's).

I've booked my flight to leave Flatanger the 22nd. I'll fly to Belgium for a week or so to visit family and collect my Belgian passport (aka my ticket to staying as long as I want in the EU). Tentative plans are to take the train to Austria at the start of October. I'll climb with my friend Peter for the month, with a focus on time spent in the mountains, with perhaps a quick trip into the Frankenjura to keep the mono's cranking!

Until then, I'm trying to keep the faith for Odin's.

Sending Muy Verdes and What's Next

Since I last posted, I was fortunate enough to redpoint one of the best, and certainly the hardest, routes I've done. A few of the things key in making this send possible were

• Warming up in the barn instead of the crag
• Changing micro beta in the crimp traverse
• Some perfectly crisp conditions

The proudest part of this ascent for me is that it went exactly as I always dream of a project redpoint going. I climbed every sequence flawlessly, with confidence and efficiency. And yet, it demanded all that I had to send. I was so desperately close to falling despite climbing well. This is the mark of a limit route! 

The following day, I decided I wanted to try a very long Adam Ondra 8b, called The Doorkeeper. As I walked to the crag, British Matt was sending the route! So, he cleaned his draws off and I was thus discouraged from getting on the route (I don't have enough draws nor a long enough rope).

Matt sending The Doorkeeper 8b

Instead, I was tempted to try Odin's Eye again. And after a couple of times on it, it felt easier than I remembered (still hard!). I decided to invest a few days into the route, and if it felt possible to do the route by the end of my trip, I would commit to it as my mega project. 

Fast forward a few days into the route. Yep. This line is the ONE. Absolutely incredible boulder problems throughout, each separated by rests/kneebars. Talk. About. A. Dream. I can't say whether it's possible for me within the time I have left, but I can say it's worth trying, as well as worth coming back for if not. 

Here's a brief breakdown. 

After the first 3 bolts (V4/5 in their own right), you have the hardest boulder on the route - a steep V8 on terrible crimps. From here, easy traversing on a slightly overhanging face leads you to an undercling crux, where you have to precisely lunge to a pretty small crimp as you rock onto a right foot smear. Impossible to grade. Hard. 

After this, you've arrived at the eye. Here you get a decent kneebar rest. From here, the most muscly traverse in flatanger awaits. Big slopey underclings on a 50 degree wall with bad smears for feet. This is a section I need to spend a lot of time refining...

This takes you straight into the redpoint crux. Incredible moves on every type of hold. Undercling, crimp, pinch, jug, sloper. A very powerful sequence, about V7 in isolation? Harder when you add in the super strenuous traverse into it.

After this you arrive at a kneebar rest, but a very pumpy one for the left calf. I imagine it will be difficult to stay in this kneebar for long. 

The last crux

Next, a really cool v5 sequence awaits, requiring static strength on slopers. You get one more awkward kneebar and then face the last crux, a v6 sequence on terrible feet that requires every bit of reach I have. I have nightmares about punting here...

>>I wrote the above a while ago, and now am a few weeks into Odin's. I am in redpoint mode, having one hung the route and climbed it in overlapping sections several times. It's been a battle with conditions more than anything, and the second crux (under the eye) seems to be the hardest for me. 3 more weeks, stoked to see what happens!

Muy Verdes

Since I arrived here, Muy Verdes has been a line which caught my eye. The features it follows are bizarre for flatanger, a combination of geometric angles and crimps. It certainly is no king line - Odin's Eye begins just to the right and is a more impressive line. But I was drawn by the route's bouldery appearance and quantity of holds I could actually close on (rather than lots of underclings and open hand grips). In other words, I was keen to spend less than an hour on redpoint and avoid sloper rails at all costs (see nordic plumber).

Me in the crux of Muy Verdes 

I didn't have the confidence to try a route at this level when I arrived, but after 3 weeks and a lot of inspiring exchanges with more experienced climbers, I realized these routes we deem too hard for ourselves are often within physical reach, but not mental. 

Think about your experiences on past projects. Once you were in redpoint mode, remember how the sequences, even the crux, felt easy in isolation? How you "swear it's jugs" and "it's like v2". 

Well, what if instead, you couldn't do certain moves. What if in isolation, you can't do the sequences or they feel impossibly hard to link. 

V6 before the rest. Rad crescent sloper rail that reminds me of the left hand on spyro gyro (but worse)

That's the difference I'm experiencing climbing here in Europe. A limit project probably isn't something where all of the moves are done on your first try. If the moves are all done first try, then you are likely capable of sending and just need the requisite route-specific muscle memory and fitness. 

A project that will challenge you to your absolute potential will demand that you discover it's subtleties. Think of the route as a limit boulder problem. To begin with, it has nothing to do with efficiency or resting. It's about solving the sequences. 

And this is where I stood with Muy Verdes last week. 

Muy Verdes is a route bolted by Dani Andrada, and first ascended by Erik Grandelius, who proposed 8c+. The day after its first ascent, Adam Ondra onsighted the route. After several more ascents, the consensus seems to have settled at 8c.

Arriving at the rest. Perhaps 8a+ to here?

On Sunday, after sending the last of the short bouldery 8a+ routes in the cave (my last one being Elden Inuti), I was deciding between hanging my draws on another 8a/b, or Muy Verdes. I had told my partners I'd try another 8a or 8a+ next, but I had a bit of confidence from my recent send of Nordic Plumber, and a LOT of stoke for something bouldery and hard. So, I decided to hang my draws on Muy Verdes. 

I didn't do more than maybe 5% max of the moves, because I was quickly french freeing by pulling on draws as I went. I knew the next day would be my first real inspection of the route.

First real attempt at Muy Verdes, I had a tough time. I did a lot of "ok climbing", followed by me holding a position for 1 second, followed by "TAKE, I'm gonna pull through for now". The productive thing about this first run wasn't doing as many moves as I could, but rather to envision the sequences.  I had examined most of the holds when I hung draws. They were, for the most part, small but good. This time, I needed to examine the sequences. 

After a few attempted sequences and some aiding, I lowered down from the end of the hard climbing (there's 4 or 5 bolts of 7cish terrain after this I'm told).

A while later, I tied back in for my 3rd attempt and first semi-serious attempt at doing moves. The progress was evident. I linked sequences as I'd envisioned, and refined what wasn't working. If something was really stopper, I envisioned what I could change but pulled through. I found proper clipping stances rather than grabbing dogbones. 

Ultimately, once I lowered, I had managed to do all but one (could be two) moves. Many of these moves I didn't do more than 2 at a time, but I was thrilled. 

After several more days invested in Muy Verdes, progress is encouraging! A slew of people sent in 2-4 tries, including Jim Pope and Stefano Carnati. I was able to glean some beta from them, and thus I was able to finish off every move! Kilian Fischhuber tried for a couple of days as well after sending Odin's Eye, but tore a muscle in his abdomen. All of these guys were great to share the route with.

Here is the breakdown in my opinion:

• 3 campus moves lead into a physical V5/6 with a kneescum and a hard clip.
• Poor kneebar rest
• V7 requiring a lot of body tension and a blind triple bump. 
• No rest, straight into a V6 with a worse-than-it-looks sloper rail 
• Jug rest with a left heel (much like Man Show back home)
• Blind and low percentage deadpoint to a pocket jug over a roof. V5?
• No rest, into the redpoint crux: a v7/8 crimp traverse, with a terribly glassy pinch and bad heel hooks! This traverse is SO COOL. Loads of static strength required, which is hard to have from the bottom, and finishes on a pocket jug. 
• Here you get an ok rest in a corner, alternating between a fingerlock and a good sidepull. Unfortunately this crack is often wet :/
• From here, a pumpy, techy 7b+(ish) awaits. 

More or less my highpoint (I got one foot move further). 

After a couple of weeks invested in this route, I feel close. Sometimes I need a break from the frustration of regression, but I consistently make it to the rest. I have a deep hatred for the deadpoint off of the rest. It's the easiest of the boulder problems, but it's where I've fallen the most.  Even when completely fresh, sometimes I just miss the hold. The move is truly blind! 

I have made it through this move maybe 1/3 attempts, and fallen on the following crimp traverse. In the meantime, I did take a day to try some other routes and regain some confidence (or was it for the 30 day ranking...). I gave a flash attempt on Gusanito, an 8a+ traverse above the Illusionist. I'd seen lots of people trying it, but didn't ask for beta. Unfortunately this cost me, and I took a bad fall at the crux on my flash go, because I'd skipped two draws (which made me hesitate) and came close to decking. However, Jim Pope (who flashed the route earlier) offered a bit of beta and I took it down next try. 

I also tried a route on the far left side that day, Steiny L1. This is a classic 8a which starts with a crux compression problem right off the ground, which leads into a big rest and then a 7a+ or so to the top?

I found the compression crux a bit reachy for me, but with some high smears and a heel, I ticked it third go. To be honest, this was one of my least favorite routes I've done here...

Back to Muy Verdes!

The Day I Sent Nordic Plumber

A few days ago I fell on the very end of the slopey rail that finishes Nordic Plumber. This came after about 1 hour and 15 minutes spent on the wall climbing and resting. As soon as I lowered, the anger was replaced by a strong nausea, and the next 6 or 8 hours I wanted to vomit. I'd never experienced this level of exhaustion from a redpoint attempt.

This next section is the "nitty gritty" for Nordic Plumber. Skip down if you don't care about specific moves and numbers.

Start on Nordic Flower. The first 6 bolts climb like a really long v8, part of which is always varying levels of wet. From here, sprint through physical moves between no hands kneebar rests. After 20 meters, you've arrived at the intermediate anchor.

Here, I sink into a comfortable no hands kneebar, and tie myself onto the anchor with a bight of rope. Next, I call off belay and pull slack down until it reaches the ground. My belayer pulls the rest of the rope through and puts me back on belay.

Once recovered, you immediately jump into a funky v3/4 using some kneescums. Then it's easy climbing but never easy enough to stop for 10ish meters, which brings you to another kneebar. It's tough to shake on this one because the wall is steep and the foothold is bad, so you clip, breathe, and launch into a really cool v4 sequence, hooking behind a flake with a heel while you hold body tension to cross into a jug.

Climbing just beyond the intermediate anchor.

 Next, you paddle through more jugs and reach a kneescum, which helps you catch your breath but not recover much. This next boulder isn't too difficult but it's powerful and risky. It's a v5 sequence of deadpoints and swings through crimps and jugs.

Then you arrive at a jug rail with no feet, so you are jamming hands and feet in the crack as you motor along. When the rail runs out, there are 2 good spots for hand jams, allowing you to shake before the next boulder. I taped my left hand specifically for this, because the left jam has a painful pebble that digs into the back of your hand.

That pebble rips through any tape I've put on!

From here, another v4 begins, in which I cross into another left hand jam, and kick my right foot over my head to jam into a crack, and reach super far to a jug. A swing, a skipped clip, and a few jugs later, you've arrived at the final kneebar rest, just beneath the sloper rail.

Kneebar rest just below the final rail.

The right knee allows you to recover, the left one doesn't. Unfortunately, you need to alternate otherwise your right calf will explode....

When your calves can take it no more, and with 50 meters of climbing under you, you launch into the (v5/6?) redpoint crux, a sequential and slopey rail with horrible heel hooks, a campus move, and a heartbreaking stab into a jug at the finish.

So there is the breakdown. Nothing mega hard or cruxy, except maybe the first few bolts. The abundant rests on this route are a blessing and a curse. They leave you with too much time to think. Every rest, you look at how much further you still have to go. How much luck you will need to hit every hold on every boulder problem correctly...it's such a mind game!

After my first time punting on the finish, I felt optimistic. It was heartbreaking, but it was undeniably progress. The second day back on the route, I was able to make it to the same spot. I had some negative thoughts going through my head in the final rest below the rail. I blasted off feeling really well recovered, and as soon as I did the campus move about halfway out the rail, I felt my whole body drain immediately. I kept fighting all the way back to the same move as last time - stabbing into the jug. But I didn't have it, and came peeling off again.

This punt was different, however. On the bright side, I noticed that as pumped as I was, I didn't have that feeling of overwhelming exhaustion or nausea. It was your standard "oh I fell because the moves are hard and I was pumped" rather than "I fell and now I need to lay down with a bucket and consume fluids the rest of the day". With this in mind, I thought maybe I could have another try later that day, if only for the fitness.

Unfortunately, there was a darker side as well. I began to think about how I could fall on such "easy" moves. I thought about friends of mine that I'm sure would float up this route. I started to compare my efforts to their imaginary ones. And more than anything, I thought about Southern Comfort.

I think about this route (Southern Comfort) every day.

I would have liked to think I was close to sending Nordic Plumber, because I was falling on the last hard move. But I couldn't shake the "lesson" I'd learned from SoCo, which is that falling on the last move doesn't always mean you are close. Sometimes you fall on the last move for months. I started to envision myself falling on this rail for the next 2 months. I wasn't sure I was motivated enough to invest so much into the route.

Feeling a strange combination of defeat and optimism, I hiked back up to the cave in the mid afternoon. I decided this attempt, being mostly for fitness, I would climb faster and take more risks. And I did.

The bottom half went really smoothly. I spent less time resting in the kneebars, but I committed to truly going no hands when I got them, rather than alternating hands to shake.

At the intermediate anchor, I adjusted my kneepads a bit, and visualized myself moving quickly through the next section. I confidently skipped a draw that's usually a bit taxing to clip, and continued into the kneebar below the v4. Quick shake, and a spontaneous but deliberate change in beta got me through, feeling more secure than it ever had. Another skipped draw and I made it to the kneescum before the v5.

Just after the rope switch on my send go.

I wasn't feeling too pumped. I felt properly warm. I launched into the v5 and made it through to the hand jam rest. I felt that pebble dig into my left hand, drawing blood through the tape. After a few minutes I did the last boulder problem before the rail. I felt good. The terrain was super familiar, having just been here earlier in the day. Another skipped draw and a line of jugs lead me to the kneebar below the sloper rail.

Here, I am proud. Or maybe content is a better word. If I fall on the last move twice in a day, that's still pretty good. At least I'm a consistent punter. In french, we say "nothing happens twice without happening a third time". In english, we say "third time's the charm". I was curious which it would be.

Part of the reason I rested less earlier on the route was in hopes that my calves would be fresher here, and I could rest in the last kneebar longer. This wasn't the case, and I had to leave the kneebar a bit earlier than desired.

I've no idea how, because every bit of the rail felt as hard as previous attempts, but I did make it to the jug. BUT IT WASN'T OVER. Given the state of my forearms, the jug might as well have been another sloper. An equally absolute effort allowed me to match this "jug" with my left hand, and thus bump my right hand into a hand jam. Talk about euphoria. Suddenly I was relaxed, sunk down on the jam, and clipped (after skipping the previous 4 bolts).

Not having enough juice to clip the anchor was a serious concern of mine. I moved up to some jugs above the rail, and tried really hard to find more hand jams. Thankfully I found a couple of flared jams, just enough to give the fingers a break. Soon, I began the last 1 or 2 meter traverse right to the anchor, and let out a huge scream of success as I clipped the anchors.

Nordic Projects

Today marks 18 days since I arrived in Flatanger. I'm settling into a routine. I climb 2 days on, one day off. Most days I do some cleaning/work in the morning, and arrive at the cave around noon. There is no sense of urgency because 1) there is 24 hour daylight and 2) I'm here for 3 months.

After a couple of weeks of introduction, I felt ready to sample some possible long-term projects. First I tried Odin's Eye, an 8c+ first done by Ethan Pringle. Another french climber, Pierre, was here for 10 days trying it, which meant draws were hung and beta was available.

Pierre just exiting the first crux of Odin's Eye

As a side note, it is interesting that even the super steep or hard lines here usually don't have permadraws. This makes choosing a project a bigger investment, because unless you are bringing 40 or 50 quickdraws, you're only going to have enough draws to hang on one route at a time. And if you try it and don't like it, then you have  to spend a lot of time and effort retrieving your gear.

So conveniently, I didn't need to bring any draws with me to try Odin's Eye. After an exciting jump start, you climb 3 or 4 bolts of 7a-ish terrain, until arriving at the first crux. This revolves around a terribly thin left hand crimp, stabbing to progressively better crimps, and using an awkwardly high right heel.

After this, you climb pretty easy terrain through some juggy underclings, working towards the "eye". When the underclings stop being juggy, they start to be very wet. This is just part of the route, as it never dries.

Pierre hanging under the wet undercling section.
Josh on the left trying Muy Verdes 8c.

The second crux comes at the end of the undercling traverse. From some smeary feet and a wet undercling, you have to make a semi-dynamic, semi-controlled lunge up and right to a decent crimp. The key here is keeping your hips SUPER open (and apparently also shoving tampons in the undercling). From here you work up a slopey rail to the top of the eye, where you get an uncomfortable kneebar to shake on.

And crux #3! This is the sequence everyone fears. I imagine it would be quite the crux on point, but in isolation this is actually the sequence which took me the least amount of time to do. Kneebars and crimps (reeeeeeeally bad crimps) are the name of the game!

Crux #3, exiting the eye. Photo pulled frome google.

After this you arrive at an awkward but good left kneebar. This next section I've never heard of giving anyone trouble, but on my first run up the route, it's actually the only sequence I had to pull through. On my second run, I sorted out some subtle foot beta and managed to link the sequence together.

Lastly, you have a very cool sequence requiring body tension and an ability to cut feet while double gastoning two nasty slopers. From here, you climb a juggy crack with some kneebars to the anchor!

After 2 runs on the route, I was pretty surprised to have done all of the moves. The cruxes are super hard, but the route is well separated by some rests.

Before investing into Odin's Eye immediately, I wanted to try Nordic Plumber. If you had asked me for one goal in Norway before going on this adventure, Nordic Plumber was the first thing that came to my mind (whether or not I shared that...). So the day after trying Odin, I jugged up to the intermediate anchor where Nordic Flower and Plumber split. After a pretty long belay and approximately 2 million bolts, I arrived at the anchor.

The beginning of the second half of Nordic Plumber.

 Nordic Plumber is an 8c route which links Nordic Flower into Thor's Hammer. Essentially, you climb the entirety of the 8b/+ section on Nordic Flower to the no hands kneebar (pulling your rope all the way through here to reduce drag) and then continue another 30 meters which is 8b by itself. This link up was also established by Ethan Pringle, and arguably takes the most obvious line out of the cave.

This second half of Nordic Plumber is extremely physical. Biceps between boulder problems is how I'd describe it. The most intimidating feature of this 50 meter monster is that the crux is the last 6 or 7 meters, pumping up an extremely slopey rail, and skipping the last 5 or 6 bolts for sure.

Iva being way too strong and clipping along the final sloper rail of Nordic Plumber  

I was able to do all of the moves on my first go up the route, and on my second go (from the intermediate anchor), I linked to the final sloper rail. After an evening training sesh and a rest day, I tried the route from the ground. I fell off of the wet section on Nordic Flower, but it was worth it to practice the rope switch and rehearse the final sloper rail. No big links that day, but I decided I need to "send" the second half before I start trying from the ground.

So the next day I tried exactly that. Warm up 7a, warm up bolt to bolt on Nordic Plumber, and then I tried the link. I focused on climbing fast, and it seemed to work pretty well. Though it was desperate, I was able to send* this second half. The asterisk is because I was too pumped to clip the anchor! I grabbed the draw and still barely held on long enought to clip!

Ethan Pringle on the last boulder problem before getting to the sloper rail.

Regardless, this is a huge confidence boost and I am STOKED to put some amuerte efforts in from the ground.

Lastly, to compliment the enduro-fest that is my new project, I hung my draws on another bouldery 8a+ called Open Shoulders. This is maybe 15 meters long and SICK. Kick off with a vertical V7 boulder problem, kneebar rest, and then you climb an INCREDIBLE sequence of comp style holds. You palm these corners like a volume, scum knees, thrutch into flat corners. Unlike anything I've ever done! Stoked to have this project alongside Nordic Plumber!

Stay tuned.

Flatanger Update

It's hot here in Flatanger at the moment! Nonetheless, it doesn't seem to be stopping anyone. Seb is getting close on Move (9b/+). Almost every member of the French family I've been climbing with has sent their projects (allez François!), and I've been super pleased with myself as well.

Since the last post I had been trying Nordic Flower L1 (8b/+). I started by jumaring up and making sure I could confidently link the second half. This is essentially a mega pumpy 7c roof traverse, which comes after a no hands kneebar rest. It is possible to fall here on point, but it would be absolutely devastating.

First kneebar after the cruxy first 6 bolts

Once I had linked this, I started making redpoint attempts. Once you understand the movement and the rests, the route kind of just boils down to linking the first 6 bolts (to the first kneebar). Unfortunately there is a hold at the 4th bolt which always seeps, and so day after day, I would arrive here and slip out. I realized the route was possible when I slipped out at the 4th bolt, then pulled back on and took it all the way to the finish.

I took a forced 2 rest days due to a gum infection, and when I returned to nordic, the hold at the 4th bolt was only slightly damp, rather than the usual waterfall! After warming up, I was able to send Nordic Flower L1 first try of the day! I counted 10 kneebars/scums in total! And I have no clue the actual number, but it felt like I was on the wall for 45-60 minutes? I remember the intimidation I felt every time I sat at the ledge on Flour Power at the RRG, thinking there is so much pump and steep climbing to go. This route however, takes it up a notch. Every time you get to a kneebar, you realize how much further you still have to go. It is a test of patience to make sure you stay in each rest long enough to make it to the next!

With Nordic Flower done, I decided not to jump into anything too big immediately. I tried some more onsighting and flashing. I was super pleased to onsight the classic Berntsenbanden (7c), which I'm told is the hardest of the 7c routes on the wall. The route starts with a harder than expected 6c to a ledge. From here, you do some cool 3D climbing with some insecure smears and dropknees, until finally sprinting up a slippery stem and layback crack. There's an 8a extension I'm keen to try as well, as I've heard the 7c part is harder than anything on the extension!

I made an onsight attempt at the classic Brunhilde L1, the king of arbitrary classics. You jumar 8 meters or so to a jug, then finish quite randomly 20 meters later. Fortunately, the movement is incredible. Big moves, on big holds, with a bouldery style between rests. I hesitated too much and fell at the second bolt. After I lowered, Seb and I sprinted down to watch the world cup final. After the french victory, one beer, and many chips, we went back up and I sent the route quite smoothly. If it weren't for the inconvenient jumar start, this route could even make it onto the warmup circuit.

François on Brunhilde L1

While I was trying nordic flower, I was also intermittently trying a route directly right of it, called Dvergtrollet (Dwarf Troll). This is a very short and very bouldery 8a+, and the story goes that Magnus Mitdbo did the first ascent onsight!

The first 3 moves are some of the hardest. I would say the route breaks down as a 12 move 7B+ into an awkward and poor rest in a corner, into another 13 move 7B+. The first one is harder, but you are fresh right off the ground. The next one is mega powerful , underclinging on some of the worst foot smears I have ever used! After these 15 moves, you get a shake and exit on some pumpy 7a+ terrain, finishing just before the line would intersect nordic flower.

Damien on Dvergtrollet 8a+, about to begin the second crux

This line was an anomaly for the area. It was very sharp, demanded raw strength and power, and had little/no kneebars. It did not climb the best, but because I knew I could do it, I couldn't walk away from it.

Next I would like to shop around for a big project. I have 3 months to spend here, and I'm curious to learn what I can do if I devote myself to a route for such an amount of time. Seb has instilled quite a lot of confidence in me, encouraging me to try routes I would never have considered possible otherwise. Stay tuned!

First days in Flatanger

Believe what you hear, but double your "could-it-really-be-that-big" expectations. It's bigger. And having said that, whatever you now have envisioned, it is bigger still. You just can't understand the size until seeing it. The routes are long, the extensions are longer, the extensions to the extensions are longer even, and these still don't go half way up the hanshelleren wall/cave!

Seb under the finish of Move

Despite the intimidation I felt, I was beyond eager to climb. Walking into the cave elicited a feeling I imagine is similar to what Jay felt his first time walking into a Sheetz. I was lucky to meet and partner with Seb who is here for a few weeks trying his project, Move 9b/+. I have a guidebook, but don't even bring it because Seb is a live guidebook with move-by-move beta!

On our first day of climbing, we warmed up in the barn, which has a nice bouldering wall and other exercises. After 30 mintutes we made our way to the cave, and Seb warmed up on a classic 7c called Eventyrblanding (Fairytale Mixture). I followed suit, feeling a bit of pressure to perform. I didn't realize seb had skipped several bolts, so found myself doing the same (having not brought draws). Though it was a bit too much for a warm up, I was happy to flash this as my first route in Flatanger. There is an 8a extension that looks worthy as well!

Warm up/training wall in the barn

Seb went for a brush n' beta run on Move, and then I tried a short bouldery 8a called Flaggermusmannen  (Batman). Still a bit flash pumped, I fell at the crux. This route has an amazing crimpy intro with a tricky kneescum, which leads into - I swear - a double clutch dyno! One of the most badass moves on rock I have done! From here you get a full rest, do a lil v3/4 and then finish on a classic 7a. Luckily I was able to do this second try. I believe there is also a seldom tried 8c extension.

Next up Seb recommended I try Nordic Flower. I suspect the real reason was so that he would have draws hung on the first section of Move (which splits after doing the 8b section of Nordic Flower), but I was psyched so up I went! The first 5 bolts are incredible and bouldery. Most of the climbing in flatanger seems to be on big hands and bad feet, whereas these 5 bolts are small hands and bad feet! Nonetheless I unlocked these sequences fairly quickly, arriving to a kneebar from which Seb said the route is juggy 7c+. I had quite the shock for the next part, as I wasted so much energy on big underclings with very bad smears. The progress nearly halted and I grabbed every draw I could just to clip.... The features are so strange. It feels like my technique is stuck in 2 dimensions when it needs to be climbing in 3. I lowered off before reaching the intermediate anchor, but am definitely going to keep trying!

Such was day one!

Day two was at least as good! I had to do some work in the morning, which meant 3 hours of quite physical weed-eating. Around one or two, I walked up to the cave and warmed up with a nice crew of Norwegians that were staying in the house with me. I onsighted the classic 7a+ Tungt Møblert (they roughly translated to "Heavily Furnished"), climbing much less smoothly than I'd like. After this, I tried a short, bouldery 7c+ called Andre Hoyre (Second Right). I'd seen a video of this one, so I had some idea of what to expect.

It breaks down as 3 boulder problems separated by good rests. I made a very tough and scary second clip. Someone later told me "it's 7c+ if you don't stick clip the second, 7c if you do". I was glad to have gone ground up in this case, because I continued to flash the route! Seb was super encouraging and another french climber, François, was belaying me! A great vibe indeed.

At this point I was torn with what to try. There are so many good options that I think my biggest crux here is choosing which route to try! I was split between an 8a+ called Massih Attack, and a 7c+ called Paltergeist. I decided I should wait before sinking my teeth into something too hard, so I tried the 7c+, which is a very long (30+ meter) route. François had been trying it and hung draws, so he was able to give me beta when I panicked and asked for it. It was a funny combination of beta coming in different languages from below!

Paradise! Every route but nordic flower climbs on the sunny left side of the wall

After spending an eternity on the wall, I was lucky enough to flash this one as well! It was certainly tougher than Andre Hoyre to me, but I loved it!

I wrapped the day up getting a blistering pump onsighting Waliserne Kommer (The Welsh are Coming). I'm very eager to try the extension to this one, a bouldery few bolts that boost the grade to 8b (Waliserne Kommer og Kommer "The Welsh are Coming and Coming").

New River Report!

I'm back with a lot of renewed psych after a spontaneous trip to the best rock in the country. I'd spent Friday night in Chattanooga saying good bye to my friend Ronnie, who you may have seen crushing double digit pebbles in Evolv's new video (these ascents are now quite dated, as he has switched to crushing 5.13 sport routes this spring).

I had the alarm set for 1:30 a.m., and set off through the early hours to attempt my first wall solo at Looking Glass, NC. More on that later, but basically a storm moved in as I was half way up the route, so I rapped down.

My haul bags giving an attentive belay on the Open Book pitch (P3, C2). I avoided the
C2 sections by doing some free/french free moves making it more 5.11 C1 ish?

After several hours on the wall aid-solo, I was feeling a lack of both companionsip and try-hard. An obvious solution was to head north to the NRG, where friends and sandstone stood to fulfill everything I was missing!

So 3 Wendy's stops, 2 podcasts, and one tank of gas later, I'd made it to the AAC. The next morning, Jay, Sadie, and I rolled out to Beauty Mountain. I'd been here once years ago on an early trip to the area, and remembered getting spanked on the classic 13b, Tubin' Dudes - as in, pulling through literally every single bolt (maybe that's where my career in 5.11 C1 began?)

Anyway, I was stoked as ever. I decided to warm up on a nice looking 12b called European Vacation (the name seemed especially appropriate). My hands touched the start holds and confirmed my thought that these were some of the worst conditions imaginable. Nonetheless, it turned out to be a really sweet route that I would totally do again.

Jay taking his European Vacation, probably wishing he was in Hueco.

After we'd completed our rounds of warm ups, I was torn between a few options. I really wanted to give a fresh and honest effort on Tubin' Dude's, but the conditions were so bad that I set it aside in hopes that the humidity would drop later in the day. I eyed Zelda, a 13a which shared the first 3 easy moves or so then broke left. I knew Jay had been on it so asked him for bits of beta. I knew the crux was a big move, easily seen from the ground. Jay pointed out which feet to smear on for this move, then assured me the rest of the route was jugs. 

Breaking left at the start of Zelda. 

I started up with a plan for almost every move. There was one hold after the crux I wasn't sure if I could match, and there was a section just below the anchor that was sunny and chalkless which remained a mystery. Aside from this, I had a plan for every move before starting up. The rock felt pretty bad, especially in the sun, but I was feeling really fresh, and maybe also feeling a bit of pressure to impress my two friends I hadn't seen in months.

I arrived at the big move and eyed up which feet I would smear on as I chalked up and shook. Not waiting too long, I pounced and stuck this crux, feeling a bit of a surge of confidence, but also a bit of frustration that it wasn't exactly a "jug" I had caught, despite what Jay had promised! I caught my breath as I had arrived at the hold I wasn't sure I'd be able to match. Despite it being worse than (again) the "jugs" I'd been promised, it worked well enough to match and I quickly made it to the last bolt. Here I had to pull into a very sunny headwall, but it ended up (finally!) being on the jugs I'd been promised. I was able to feel it out from the comfort of a sinker right hand, and a couple moves later I clipped the anchors! This was my second 13a flash, and I'm proud that I pulled it off in bad conditions and with very little beta.

After some rest, mini bagels, and acceptance that conditions won't be getting better, I tied in to try Tubin' Dudes. The first crux is a HUGE and precise deadpoint, but I was able to avoid this with a very high right drop knee, which allowed me to essentially static this move. Very memorable sequence, and unexpected for a face climb! Next I worked on figuring out the true crux, which involves engaging your core and stabbing good crimps for a few moves (my jam) until getting to a jug. Some pretty cruiser but high quality 5.11 takes you to the anchors. 

Having sorted this all out, I tied in for my first RP attempt, and things went really smooth. I had a plan not to rest at the first bolt (I knew I would be tempred), but to essentially sprint to anchors as soon as I left the ground. I got in a really good rhythm, and thanks to a whole spring of developing this technique, was able to be very conscious about my breathing even during hard sequences. Soon I was through the crux and into the 5.11 - so focused that I realized I had forgotten to make a clip (which could've resulted in me striking a boulder behind me). I reached back low to clip it and continued on to the top, feeling like all the previous day's driving had been worth it.

After this, I decided to try the last route on the wall, a 13c called "Leap of Faith". I'd read that this one was a bit of a softy, with some dynos here and there. I onsighted the first two or three bolts and then arrived at a stopper boulder problem. I tried, fell, then spent 30 minutes or so trying to figure out a sequence. Ultimately, I was losing skin and the easiest sequence I'd found still felt v9/too hard to do from the ground. I pulled through and lowered down, ready to move on.

At this point, we still had plenty of daylight but no super quality routes to do at this crag, so I talked Sadie into questing to Southside. I wanted to try a 13c called "One for the Gipper", which I've fallen at the top of many times before. Once at the Brilliant Pebble, Sadie sampled the awesome arete that is Grey Goose, a nice overhanging line with good holds and a boulder problem down low.

After a quick beta run to refresh my memory of the subleties, I tied in for my 6th pitch of 5.13 for the day. Though not exactly fresh, my body and fingers felt perfectly warm. I floated through the bottom section to the last bolt, which is an incredible bit of 12d or so climbing. I shook out for a few minutes on a weird jug, but I was too many pitches in to still have that kind of recovery ability. I launched into the final v7ish boulder, and right as I caught the last hold on the route, my other hand dry fired and I exploded off the wall. Shit!

After Sadie had another go on Grey Goose, with big progress, I tied back in for a final burn on the gipper. I arrived at the rest up top feeling ok, but again couldn't recover as well as I should have. I launched up to the last hold, but didn't have the oomph to stick, despite my other hand sticking this time. I wasn't terribly bothered, as I'd had a great day. I've probably fallen on this last move ~15 times on point. Frustrating, but definitely something I look forward to revisiting. I love this pebble tremendously. The quality is impeccable and the style matches me perfectly. The line just left of the gipper is an absolute dream, and may one day become a goal. That should be a while...

The next 2 days I revisited One for the Gipper, but each time it was soaking wet. On Monday I bailed to the Coliseum and tried BC for the first time. I'd never really been inspired by this line, but had heard many people rave about the quality of the movement. They aren't wrong! This one flows like a dream. Each attempt I would climb faster and faster. Ultimately it breaks down into a juggy 5.12 into a v7 just at the anchors. It seemed most people grab the crux hold as a gaston for this boulder problem, but I couldn't make that feel as casual as I would've liked. Instead I chose to use the crux hold as a sidepull, allowing me to make the move much more controlled. After this, there are a couple of desperate moves going to the anchor clipping slot.

Day three I found myself warming up at the first buttress of Upper Meadow. I began up one of four 13a routes there, having been assured "they're all jugs". Unfortunately they were all sopping wet jugs, so I was a bit gripped getting to the no hands rest half way up the route. As a left this rest and turned the lip of a small roof, I heard metal jangling below me and realized the draw I had just clipped had slid down to the previous draw, with the bolt hanger still attached! The nut must have been very loosely threaded and fallen right off. I was a bit spooked between the onsighting, the wet holds, and the protection that had come off the wall. I downclimbed to the previous bolt, and lowered. Once again, I bailed to the Coliseum!

I was excited to try BC once more. When we arrived, it was not much better. The rock was noticeably darker due to how wet the wall was. The silver lining was that despite the majority of the route being wet, the crux was dry! Ricky and I both came as close as one could to sending our mini projects, but ultimately it was not in the cards. I fell after the crux on BC, peeling off on the bump into the anchor clipping slot! If I could only have one more day, no doubt Ricky and I would put these rigs down!

Now I am back home and training hard., trying to catch up on sleep and moneymaking. The stoke for Flatanger's "facemelting" (as a friend put it ) grantite is all time. I'll be doing my best to post updates from Norway! 

Tragedy as a Catalyst

Springtime has arrived, and that means several things. First, I've clipped chains on one of my longest and certainly most expensive projects - college. This freedom means I've also had the chance to make some very exciting plans for the next year or so. These plans aren't what this post is about, but in a few words - Yosemite, Norway, Austria, Turkey, Belgium. 

It seems to me the last year or so has taken the lives or abilities of many members of our beloved climbing community. While accidents and deaths occur frequently each year, this past year has particularly impacted me. The people we lost were not statistics nor strangers, they were people I'd held conversations with, climbed with, and befriended. While loss occurs with every passing year, so does connection build with every passing year. This, I believe, is why I've been particularly affected by these losses. The more time I spend in places I love, the more people I learn to love. And yet, the more people you love, the more likely you are to lose one of them. Connection makes us vulnerable.

That isn't to say it isn't worth it. Grief has a beautiful way of showing us how much someone meant to us. But why are we so often incapable of understanding the value of such friendship until we've lost it? Death is inescapable, but we like to think we have a say in, or at least an idea of, the circumstances under which our last breath is taken. As a young climber, and a college student, so many people offer advice revolving around the same mantra: "you've got your whole life ahead of you". Take an extra semester, oh just one more loan, pick up one more shift, try the project one more time, why not go to grad school, make xyz sacrifices now - they'll pay off later. Why do we bother with things which do not or will not make us happy? Is 21 really so young when 22 isn't guaranteed? Am I really so young today if tomorrow isn't promised?

Tragedy is a catalyst for reflection. I'd like to think it encourages or forces those affected to focus on that which matters most - the people and things we love. It seems tragically disillusioned that one's initial instinct would be to post on social media. And yet, this was my first instinct. For me, one of the most frustrating traits of any loss is the honesty and love it elicits in us, powerful enough that we are compelled to share it with the world, despite it being too late for the one which sparked this love to feel it. 

Social media has sat bitterly in my mind since these accidents. The accounts I created to share myself with others now seems to influence my choices, passions, and friendships. Is this acceptable? There are 5 stages of grief and I'm pretty sure instagram isn't one of them. But I posted my "tribute" to Savannah before I cried about her death. Is that not fucked up? 

Is it any more twisted than me venting about social media on a blog? Well, I appreciate having an online journal to formally collect my thoughts, and the public nature of this journal doesn't influence my writing or keep me up in the same way other forms of social media do. Perhaps it's that lack of an audience that engenders authenticity. Ya know "what you say when no one's listening" kind of stuff.

I don't really know what to make of it. Social media is a tremendous tool and in my travels it has connected me with so many people I would otherwise not have met. But how can I know? When I post to instagram, there are probably less than 10 people that truly give a shit, and odds are they were out with me witnessing and partaking in whatever #tryhard I'm spraying about. 

I have no concluding thoughts. And those we lost didn't get a chance to conclude theirs.

I'm grateful you survived your fall, Quinn. Your attitude inspires beyond your achievements (not to belittle these).

I'm continuously inspired by your authenticity, Hayden. I'm grateful to have met you.

I am so sorry for how quickly it was all taken away, Inge. Your passion continues to inspire.

Savannah, you overcame so much and were ready to take on even more. What a gross injustice to see your fire cut short.

Where I'm at with SoCo

In the fall of 2017, I began to put some efforts into Southern Comfort. I was getting out with my good friend Chris, who was raging through some other concave lines with some quickness. The thing to know about Chris and I is that when we climb together, there is one thing that matters more than anything - how hard are you trying?

And so never mind that there were still a few lines in the cave I hadn't sent. With psych buzzing on both ends of the rope, I was beginning my process on this incredible line. By the end of the season in the fall, I had one MAJOR breakthrough: a one-hang on Southern Comfort Right.

Moving through the 3rd boulder problem on a RP attempt.

The route is a bit of an anomaly. It's sits in a large canyon characterized by bouldery routes separated by rests, with the stereotype being cruxy edges or powerful moves on big flat holds. The concave, which is the crag within the canyon that SoCo is situated in, is characterized by steep climbing with bouldery cruxes between rests. Think jugs, heel-toes, and unfortunately, glue. This place is Alabama's outdoor gym.

Southern Comfort, however, is different from anything else in the canyon. As far as I've experienced, it is different from anything else in the region. Besides the opening boulder problem which climbs through some chossy reinforced crimp flakes, the route climbs perfects stone with insanely creative boulder problem cruxes, most of which are climbed in a resistance-style (no rest).

Here is my breakdown of the route:

• v6 to a good kneebar rest
• long v6 to a bad shake
• v4
• powerful v5 exit

None of these are difficult in isolation, but they are very strenuous to link. Interestingly, when I fall on my redpoint attempts, I no longer feel very pumped, but I feel powered down. This is a problem because the last 3 moves are the most powerful moves on the route. 

3rd to last move, a snap of my current highpoint (I fell here)

When I would one-hang it, I would usually do so by going from the ground to the bad shake after the second v6, and then from there to the top. I was convinced the redpoint would boil down to finding a better body position to recover here. After a lot of unsuccessful effort trying to make this stance feel more comfortable, I realized I needed a different solution to make progress.

I knew the second boulder problem was the most taxing on the route. Though not particularly hard, it requires a lot of tension and a lot of weight on the arms. Thus, it's hard to breathe well through these moves and it also saps a lot of power. So I sacrificed a session of working the route as a whole so that I could instead dial in this second boulder. I wanted to know exactly which moves required tension, and which ones I could breathe through. I did the boulder four times in a row, at first focusing on breathing through every move possible. Once I understood which moves I can breathe through, I started to focus on speed - how quickly can I climb through this part to minimize the energy toll.

The second and most taxing boulder problem.

The last thing I worked out in this session was the bad shake following the boulder. While a right heel felt most solid to clip the draw, I decided it was worth adding a move back down to switch the right heel to a toe jam in the hueco, and a left toe pressing on the lowest hueco. From subsequent sessions, I have also learned it is more important for my right arm to be recovered than my left, so I make sure I shake this side last before moving on.

The bad shake after the second boulder.

With all of these subtleties understood, I began pushing for bigger links. I originally thought once I could link from the kneebar rest to the top, I would be close to doing the route. Now I feel as though that is equivalent to doing the route. I have gotten to the same move from the ground as I have off of a hang at the kneebar. Thus, I am in redpoint mode. I climb the opening v6 to the ledge as fast as I can, and I sink into the kneebar rest and relax until I am ready. From here, there are 3 things I tell myself to remember: breathing, speed, and confidence. 

On my second-to-last session, I was fresh from a rest day and was making really good burns from the ground. I made it to the last bolt twice, but each time I was too sapped to clip off of this juggy undercling. On my last session, I was 3 days on and not feeling strong. I began making a big move left to a good slopey hole to clip. With this slight change, I was able to clip the last bolt from the ground twice in  a row, which was HUGELY encouraging because I knew I could come back after a rest day with this change in beta and my odds would be good.

Going one extra move to get in a better clipping stance. I clipped then fell making the big cross to the crimp on the right.

So now I'm resting more than I am training this week, hoping to arrive fresh and confident for battle on the rig this weekend. We'll see!

All photos by John Heidbreder.