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!