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.