Compression before a fall
Just nipped over to Lewis for some active rest & inadvertently nailed the nails extension, but I havn't nailed down Niall to some nails gnarling yet...so to speak. Dave MacLeod & Claire have left white dabs of finger reference all over the Sea Peanut & a few other places but they didn't find the new hardcore section further through. hoho! At least, I say it's a hoho, whilst being well aware that not every bouldering trip is about redlining blood letting & boundary pushing...sometimes it's a stroll, an active break. Anyway, it's taken me about a year of wave dodging to grab the Hydrophobic -extension- in condition, due to it being deeply tidal - but it's been worth it for the gnarly highball & sharp fluidity of moves inside how you visualize the climb will go...when you can reach it without swimming there aye. I'm away back out again anyway...plenty of worthy gaps waiting between tamed monsters...the dug as a spotter...jumpers for goalposts...& just a few days to do it...before we conspire to sort climbing some future Rosengartenspitze & Vajolet Tower new routes. We'll drop in on The Edgeclingers expression on the prospect along the way as well. Back here & for now, the climb-line mobile number is on as usual.
≈ΔCp,t. ΔCp,t ≈
As usual, plans are afoot Jon. It's great out that way aye. I'll put some words & photies up at some point for sure.
Funny, I scrabbled around in the attic not long ago. Theres boxes of slides, prints & notes going back years, from Cham, the Hörnli hut Speedo scoff-in, to the Wadis to bouldering in the Kush & under Karakoram; Wales in fluorescent OTE lyrca [!] days upon weeks of Fontainbluea & stinky gites...the scary list goes on...but I've lazily never got round to converting them or transferring the scribblings to computer or the photo plates into digital. I even found my other yellow & black Asolo carbon boot shell up there...still with Himalayan grit in the tread! It made me sit quietly amongst the spiders & itchy muffled dark warmth, sniffing the boot for traces of mistral wind, cordite dustings of earths oldest stone, perma-snows & night storms. I found a renewed incling to trudge around Yak Kharka & get involved in altitude street bouldering, breathless among scampering children & prayer wheels. I heard laughter trickling distant. I wanted following the scent of Java coffee up into Thorung Phedi again, rather than listen to some bampot talk about Java Script in Kyleakin so I can put a chatbox on the blog....The mind is the most impressive camera of all aye. The eyes the film with which we imprint those senses.
Some things are destined for dust...or to be found when you're in your final box. I've always wanted a Tibetan Sky Burial, it makes more sense than becoming like the very items; or indeed images, of the people who never made it this far, I recently found myself caressing in the attic. The ease with which the digital age washes over the importance of focus, stillness, trust & calling round at other peoples houses with your handlebars at insane angles - is scary sometimes aye...
So yes, having acquired the tools of instantaneous capture & blether, I'll probably throw summat on the blog after.
Si