DARK HORSE

Fontainebleau 2012

After an epic journey at the warp speed of 50mph I’ve arrived in Fontainebleau, tired, solo and heavy hearted. Font has always resonated with me for some reason, maybe it’s the sandstone boulders, the tree lined roads or just some special feeling that keeps me coming back for more.

My first time in the forest was almost 20 years ago with friends from my local climbing wall, Cliff’s Barn. We had caught the bouldering bug and had heard of this mystical place just south of Paris with hundreds of boulders. Without a guide, or in fact any idea where to go apart from a place name, our pilgramage set off from Lancashire in Mark’s Fiesta with Ed’s somewhat dubious directions. Arriving in Calais we immediatly set off in the wrong direction,towards Brittany,and had to spend the night in a B&B. When we eventually got back on track the 3 of us made a bee line for the Fontainebleau tourist information office armed with sub-GCSE French but lots of enthusiam to back it up. Failing to find a suitable translation for the word ‘climbing’ Mark set about mimicing climbing actions, which to be fair to the ladies at the counter, looked more like a cross between the birdy dance and a dirty old man groping boobs. The stunned women were about to call the gendarmes when luckily Ed spotted the myriad of climbing photos adorning the wall. As if we had muttered a secret word they sprang into life, “ah Escalade!” and rummaged around. The blue guidebook we purchased seemed to have been written during the war but managed to direct us to Bas Cuvier. Donning Boreal Lasers and beer towels for bouldering mats we had our arses handed to us time and time again on the cunning sequences and seemingly impossible moves. I was hooked.

This time driving through the small towns avoiding the tolls, the Fontainebleau scenery started to unroll. The sight of prostitutes lining the Route National (who seemed to have picked up a sponsorship deal with Renault vans) soon passed by and the familiar carpark of Bas Cuvier was in front of me at last. With gusto and a migrane brought about by lack of caffine I rushed out of the van to finally touch the magnificiant rock. First problem of the trip I ‘dry fired’ off the first hold of a warm up and took all the skin off a knuckle. Fontainbleau bites back. 
So far I’ve had one days worth of climbing. Warming up at Sabot the following morning I became disengaged with the rock and fell from the top of a problem onto a nearby block and then down onto my pad head first. A nearby German,who seemed to have been previously impressed by my climbing, came running over to see if I was dead. A bruised ego and cuts on both arms and legs was all I sustained and a reminder that even though I now have the modern safety of a bouldering mat, it’s only useful if I land on it. I’m glad to be back again in this magical place even if it is only for a week or so before I head off to Switzerland.

Hasta La Vista USA

Malibu Beach, LA

It has been an epic few days since the last post – we had a bumper last day in Bishop before setting off to San Francisco, and then driving down the west coast of California on the stunning Route 1. After driving through five states, 3,169 miles, and a further two days travelling back to Manchester via El Paso and Chicago, we arrived in rainy Sheffield yesterday for a right royal knees up with friends – and one pad lighter after a bit of a ruckus with American Airlines staff. More on that later.

Dylan working the moves on Xavier’s Roof (V11)

Last week saw a team of Sheffieldites arrive in Bishop, including Tom, Claire, Rob and Helen. We headed out to Dale’s Camp with Rob to try Xavier’s Roof (V11), with both Rob and Dylan looking solid, before falling off the terrifying rock-over move to latch the last jug. Our last week also saw the Dixonator crush Aquatic Hitchhiker (V10) in just two short sessions.

Tom crushing Aquatic Hitchhiker (V10)

I had just one thing on my mind on the last day in Bishop; get my project ticked and have a beer. On my fifth go of the day my heart began sinking - I thought that the show was definitely over. But then on literally the last go of the session I pulled it out of the bag, which was a major result.

We then headed down the The Happies for a last holiday burn on some moderate stuff we hadn’t yet got around to, including Action Figure (V6), Mr Happy (V5). We were both really pleased to do crimpfest Fast Dance (V9) just before sunset, with a flash from the Fletchertron. Dylan also had a very valiant attempt at crushing Kill On Sight (V12) before sadly falling off the top moves.

 Action Figure (V6)

As we headed off to San Francisco on Friday, we were feeling good. We have had an amazing few weeks in Bishop; my favourite bouldering spot ever. We had made some great new friends from Canada, Terry and Selena, who I had the pleasure of working my problem with, we had spent quality time with mates from Sheffield and New York, and explored some of the best bouldering areas in the world.

San Fran, The Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz

After the five-hour drive to San Fran via Reno, we headed straight for the ferry for Alcatraz. This has been pretty much a life-long ambition of mine, and the trip was a brilliant experience. Alcatraz Island is located 1.5 miles offshore from San Francisco. Often referred to as The Rock, the small island was developed with facilities for a lighthouse, a military fortification, a military prison, and a federal prison until 1963.

It has housed many notorious inmates including Al Capone and Machine Gun Kelley, and has been the location of several dramatic escape attempts. For $24 dollars pp, we took the ferry across the channel and spent about three hours looking around with an audio tour. There are more photos here.

The evening saw a visit to The Bay’s Pier 39, where hundreds of seals took refuge after an earthquake in 1990, and many have settled permanently.

We also checked out the famed wiggly Lombard Street, the Coit Tower, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the trendy Little Italy and surrounding nightspots. There are more photos here.

Golden Gate Bridge

“Gragghhhhhhhhhhh”

San Francisco downtown

The next day we drove from Monterey, just down the coast from San Fran, to Los Angeles on the beautiful scenic Route 1, which follows the rugged wild coastline for six hours. We stopped off to see some overzealous rutting Elephant Seals on Piedras Blancas Rookery, and Malibu Beach where all the minted people reside. There are more photos here.

About two hours down Route 1

Horny elephant seals on the Piedras Blancas Rookery

Beyond the fence: Where the really rich people live

Due to the confusing trip logistics – the result of booking a two-week holiday to Hueco before deciding to extend the trip by two months – we had to fly home via El Paso (15 hours stopover) and Chicago (6 hours stopover)…. making for a very long and painful experience. This was exacerbated somewhat by an American Airlines autocrat refusing to accept our two pieces of luggage; our two bouldering mats wrapped around two North Face bags were both now oversize, incurring a $200 fine each.

We separated the four items to pay for two extra bags instead, however one Moon pad alone was still oversize. The woman instructed Dylan to walk at least two miles away from the airport to dump the pad to prevent a terror alert at Terminal 4. Instead he took the foam out, folded the casing up and stashed it in to our hand luggage, which partially solved the problem, though effectively meant we were one pad down.

Morris, Peter and Terry won’t miss the cold nights

Overall, the trip has been brilliant. We were so incredibly lucky with the good weather, which meant we could explore Yosemite, the ghost town of Bodie, and the surrounding areas around Mammoth. Tick lists were pretty much ticked, with my proudest ascent being High Plains Drifter (V7), and Dylan still glowing after his marathon tangle and defeat of his nemesis Acid Wash (V10). 

Our nine week trip

I will miss having two world-class climbing areas just 15 minutes drive away, the consistent weather, excellent conditions everyday, the huge array of grades and styles, endless coffee and drinks in restaurants, the novelty and endless things to play with in Kmart and Wal-Mart, hot stews at Vons, and tonnes to new people to meet and hang out with.

However, I will however not miss the bureaucracy of Hueco, living in Kmart carpark, and driving a van that resembles a pig on castors with a steering column which does a disco leg every time the brake is applied. I won’t miss not being able to buy real bacon, toilets that flush of their own free will, America’s obsession with germ control (disinfectant hand spray and revolving toilet seat covers, anyone?), 3AM toilet breaks and the icy gusts, and cold cold nights.

Oh yeah, and I will also not miss the gluttony, excessive eating, huge portions, and potential heart disease that blights the American population, and the majority of the nation’s children.

Thanks for reading the blog thus far readers, it has been great that so many people have been following our adventures. It’s strange and complimentary experience when strangers start talking about your trip to you like you are old friends. Thanks for the support :)

Goodbye America, I’ll be back soon!

 

 

 

Project Numero Uno

The psychology of the bouldering redpoint is something I have never really dealt with before; the maddening internal battle of will and motivation, the frustration of the necessary rest days, the race against time before the flight home, the thwarted days offered to a cruel mistress when time could be enjoyed on so many other problems. Too late to turn back, too many days already invested challenging this adversary, so close to success… yet so far. The desperation of failure when, exhausted, dropping the crux yet again, knowing it was the last burn of the day, and yet another two days – maybe more - must be sacrificed to this unrelenting beast.

I once spent three sessions working The Nose in Burbage, declaring it “my lifetime nemesis” as it would not immediately lie down and be slain. But I have never really had a meaningful project – something out of my league, or something I have spent more than three sessions on – probably owing to the fact I have the concentration span of a goldfish, and have never set my sights that high. I would prefer to climb as many problems in the top of my grade that I could, considering a whole trip spent on one thing wasted.

But then I got on this godforsaken problem at The Sads near Dylan’s now-completed project, much harder than anything I had pulled on before. Within 30 minutes I had done it in two overlapping sections. Amazing, I thought, I would go home with a new grade under my belt – and it won’t have even taken me that long. How wrong could I have been?

This problem is an overhanging arête; five powerful moves which require precision, warm muscles, a positive attitude, good skin, and the kind of strength and tension you only get when you feel really fresh. Each foot movement must be precise to the fraction of a millimeter, the rotation of the hips must be exact to the degree, the long demanding crux move into the pocket must be deadly bang on – right at my limit. And after just a few goes, things quickly go depressingly backwards.

It is now just a matter of when – and not if – it will go. But it has now been four frustrating sessions in which I have made encouraging progress each time… but with each session, the end of our trip to Bishop is drawing ever closer. Three short days and counting. I was dealt a blow yesterday when the girl I was working it with heroically sent it – and then I put a hole in my finger from repeatedly falling out of the crux pocket.

Last night I was kept awake for hours as I worked each move in my mind, wondering why it was so easy in two sections, but why I could not stick that crux move from the start. I know deep down that if I had completed the problem in just two or three sessions, it probably wouldn’t have deserved the grade it boasts. But that does not help to ease the disappointment walking away empty handed after each session.

So what’s it worth? Is it worth sacrificing the rest of my trip here for just one ascent? Is it worth the sleepless nights and potentially hugely disappointing departure upon failure? Or upon completion, will the joy and satisfaction compensate the last few days of worry? This is why I dislike sport climbing; the frustration of spending so much time on one route just to fall off the same move at the top over and over again, the repetitive pilgrimage back to the same crag, the time endlessly spent mulling over what has gone wrong and how to fix it… so stressful, so much pressure.

I have come to the conclusion that I must stick with this new petulant nemesis and get it done – but I’ll be damned if I ever again pick such a maddening battle while on my travels.

Nemesis [nem-uh-sis]: something that a person cannot conquer, achieve.

Cows at The Happies

Nemesis [nem-uh-sis]: something that a person cannot conquer, achieve.

There are certain routes or boulder problems you come across that just won’t lie down. Sometimes the moves don’t fit you, something won’t click or you just have a mental block with finishing them off. I’m one of those climbers who always picks up bogey problems, probably because I’m not very good or because I’m very stubborn.

The first time I came to Bishop I tried a problem called The Hulk. In terms of grade it’s only V6, but with a star rating of 4; as good as they come and worth travelling from across the other side of the world for. Or should be. As far as I’m concerned I’ve no idea why people like this, the climbing is OK at best, it’s polished, eliminate and is essentially only 2 moves long. My other Bishop nemesis was the downright awful Acid Wash (V10), which climbs out of a crumbly head height cave on friable holds. At least the guidebook writers didn’t big this one up and only award it one star.

On my first trip, I failed to even comprehend how to do the crux on The Hulk and left it well alone. On my second trip here I tried it once more, but to no avail, and deemed it impossible and so ticked all the other (harder) problems on the block. Acid Wash was something of a war of attrition on my last visit. This problem suits the tall but being a pigmy I couldn’t do the “soft” moves and had to try to sketch about on smaller holds. My taller more talented friends had all climbed Acid Wash in about 30 mins and I was falling, repeatedly, off the last move. On my last day trying this problem I had a bad case of Montezuma’s Revenge, from what I thought was a dodgy Mexican and my friend thinks was Ibuprofen poisoning. Either way I was robbed pulling through on the final jugs and the surrounding nature was desecrated.

View of Bishop from The Druid Stones

This time in Bishop I’d not even thought about The Hulk. In fact I no longer cared about it until Lucy wanted to see what all the fuss was about. After the usual “why has God forsaken me” screams I employed some new beta and a bit of grrr and I was standing on the top of this choss pile. Acid Wash refused to go down in similar fashion and it became such a mental game. There is nothing worse than hating the thing you are climbing, yet inexplicably being unable to leave it alone. The only reward for getting to the top is relief and not excitement. Eventually after more beta changes than a Windows operating system release I finally topped out. As a bonus I found this miniature of Lucy’s dad, complete with pirate eye patch, sat on the side of the boulder.

An uncanny resemblance

I started this post with the intention of talking about climbing being a metaphor for life. Trying hard and pushing through when the chips are down. It’s not, it’s just climbing. At the end of the day all we are doing is climbing over rocks, not even big ones sometimes. Getting angry, screaming and being stressed and upset is pointless. Maybe the masochist in us needs the struggle to make it all worthwhile, as things achieved easily are less worthy, no? Anyway I’m glad I finished these things off, despite the stress as I feel that I’ve somehow grown as a climber and it’s made a difference. Maybe that’s the point.

Lu crushing Junior’s Achievement (V8)

Whilst I have been flailing Lucy’s climbing has been going from strength to strength. Last time we were here her grades topped out around the V3 range. This trip the difference has been startling and she has matured into a seasoned climber. On Friday morning we slept next to the Buttermilks and at 7am she set about warming up. By 8am I was woken up by a very excited girl wanting a spot for the scary top out on Juniors Achievment (V8). True to form she climbed it again first go and with the added encouragement topped out.

Lucy topping out High Plains Drifter (V7)

Next on the list was the uber classic High Plains Drifter (V7). Although this climbs like a gymnastic problem it’s rather high (but safe parents) and intimidating. As with most classics it’s no give away and even the V0 top out to the summit needs careful considerate movement. On Friday Lucy’s climbing came of age and I was, and am, a very proud husband. I hope this will now give her the confidence to get on bigger numbers, which she will no doubt crush into tiny diamonds.

The Druid Stones

Over the last week we finally made the arduous walk into the Druid Stones to escape the weekend crowds. The views are stunning, though the walk is still haunting our calf muscles. I’m just glad neither of us picked up a project as over an hour of near vertical walking would have been too much for my metal legs.

Skye Dance (V6) at The Druid Stones

3* classic Kredulf (V4) at The Druids

Head Butt (V1) at The Druids

In other news I climbed an 8a. It’s the first one I’ve tried on this trip so that was nice.

Beefy Gecko (V11) at The Sads

Strength In Numbers (V5) at The Sads

Tickmark Hall of Shame

The Iron Man Traverse, Buttermilks

Vegas, baby!

Definitely as mental as it looks

Last week the weather in Bishop crapped out monumentally, with more than 17 inches of snow falling on the ski resort Mammoth just 45 minutes away, so Dylan and I took the opportunity to check out Sin City about 5 hours drive east from Bishop. The drive was something out of a movie; one road stretching out forever into the Nevadan desert, with the obligatory tumbleweeds and whore houses (my favourite being the ‘Shady Lady’) along the way.

The Nevada desert

Obligatory tumbleweed

Las Vegas is one of a kind. The city bills itself as ‘The Entertainment Capital of the World’, famous for its casino resorts and “associated entertainment”. Las Vegas is the 28th-most populous city in the United States, with an estimated population of almost 2 million. The gambling and entertainment industry is mostly focused in the Las Vegas Strip, which is not actually located in city limits, but instead in the surrounding unincorporated community known as ‘Paradise’.

We stayed in Circus Circus, a budget casino bang in the middle of the Strip, which for a mere $80 plus $15 resort fee offered two night’s accommodation, an endless buffet for two, two free games, two free goes on the roller coaster, two free drinks, and a voucher book offering reduced price meals in the casino restaurants.

One scary ass clown

The roller coaster inside our hotel

It seemed to me that our hotel was the dividing line between the two halves of Las Vegas, with the Fremont Street Experience 45 minutes walk in one direction (the dark side) and the eye-poppingly ostentatious high rolling casinos 45 minutes walk on the other (the light side). 

On our first night we walked down to The Fremont Street Experience, a pedestrian mall occupying 5 blocks. The attraction is a barrel vault canopy, 90 ft high and 1,500 ft in length. A section comprising one fiftieth of the total canopy equals the size of the world’s current largest electric sign. With the completion of the $17 million upgrade, more than 12 million LED lamps illuminate the overhead canopy. Within the canopy itself are 220 speakers powered by 550,000 watts of amplification.

 

Fremont Street Experience

The spectacle was quite something, with a Bon Jovi tribute band playing on the stage at the end of the street, and a huge Kiss montage on the canopy, and people whizzing overhead on a zip wire, 4 at a time. However the scene below the canopy was something else. Not yet having been to the light side, this gave quite a shocking first impression of Las Vegas.

On the walk there we passed 24-hour pawn shops with queues down the street, with people clutching Xbox games, fitness equipment and jewelery in exchange for some paltry sum. There were crack whores, teenagers high on meth, and drunk tourists who had just exchanged vows in one of Las Vegas’s many drive-through chapels. Inside the casinos lining Fremont Street there were smells of sweat, farts and desperation as  punters dead behind the eyes threw their hard-earned cash into the machines, while sweaty men disappeared behind curtains with middle-aged hookers.

The sum total of my winnings - a 4c token and a chicken called Peter

On the second night we headed east on Las Vegas Boulevard to check out the other face of the city. We first visited the Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino, which comes complete with its own aquarium and ‘shark reef’. Then The Luxor Hotel & Casino, where from the top of this massive modern pyramid shines the world’s brightest beam of light. Built in 1993, The Luxor has all the trappings of an Egyptian king’s palace, but even a king would never have imagined the level of luxury available.

Bellagio’s Chinese New Year display

The Luxor

Next, on to the MGM Grand, where the film Oceans 11 was shot; the largest of the Las Vegas casinos. With the dual roaring lions guarding the entrance, this Vegas icon is also one of the most recognized hotels in the world, with over 3,500 slots and 165 game tables. We bought a drink ($16 for two bottles of beer!) at the Rainforest Café, where you could sit and enjoy the indoor rainforest complete with huge waterfall, tropical aquariums, and ‘talking’ and moving wildlife and trees.

The roller coaster at New York New York - AMAZING

Then we headed to New York New York to ride their roller coaster – worth the $16 a head. Then on to The Bellagio , a ridiculously flamboyant resort where on one table a group of tourists were placing their minimum $300 bets, and a huge Chinese New Year display adorned the whole of one room, complete with a 40 foot dragon blowing smoke through its nose. And finally Caeser’s Palace, a grandiose resort modeled on the Roman Empire, with huge columns lining the gaming floor and beautiful women floating around in togas.

These places may have been amazing to look at but they didn’t come cheap. To stay and enjoy more then 30 minutes in the light side of Las Vegas you needed serious cash – and lots of it. Great for a stroll through though.

While we were there we also popped up to the 13-mile scenic drive at Red Rocks, which is about 25 minutes drive from the city centre. It was really beautiful though the $7 entry seemed a bit steep after surrounded by the beauty of Bishop for free!

Red Rocks

On the scenic drive - Red Rocks climbing area is smaller than you might think!

Now we are back in Bishop we have just 12 days left before heading on to San Francisco. I have been working a Acid Wash Right SS (V9) which has now been done in two overlapping sections, while Dylan is got a few irons in the fire. Recent favourites of mine have been All the Colors You Are (V6) and Rave (V7), though the heavy snow, followed by the burning sunshine, has meant just about everything has been wet for the last few days.

The snow has fallen in Bishop

All The Colours You Are (V6) at The Happies

Lander on 3* classic Rio’s Secret Arete (V3)

3* Heavenly Path (V1) - IMO the best problem of the grade in Bishop

Yesterday was spent desperately trying to climb something – anything – in the Buttermilks. After losing our socks to dry holds, along with 19 layers of skin, we gave up. Let’s hope for better conditions this week!

On a final note, here’s a photo of one of the Kmart beavers who live next to our van in the river. Dylan is also pretty excited as he saw a raccoon last night!

Las Vegas: Signs of the Time

Bishop, My New Favourite Place

Jess warming up in the Buttermilks

So it’s official. Bishop is officially My New Favourite Place. I visited once before about six years ago with a team of eight strong London boys, and I was puntering at about V2. Needless to say I didn’t get much out of it apart from feeling wholly inadequate. But now I’m a bit better and it’s a different place. So much to do, so many sweet lines, such friendly people.

This week was topped off with a visit from one of our best friends James from New York, who was best man at our wedding and all round rad chap. He bought with him two other lovely New Yorkers Jess and Lander. They have been staying at Bishop’s finest, The Creekside Inn, which comes complete with an outdoor jacuzzi hot tub…. which has been our new (and very brilliant) evening activity.

The Knappster

We have had an immense few days visiting the Sads, Pollen Grains, and the Peabodies. This week’s personal favourite lines have included Bard’s Arete (V5), Bowling Pin (V4), Cindy Swank (V7) at the Pollen Grains, and a very cool diagonal crack (V2) on the back of the same boulder. I am still yet to send High Plains, though luckily the temperatures are dropping this week with snow forecast at the weekend, so that will feel about eight grades easier with any luck! Here are some photos of the week’s climbing…. and some more here.

Dylan topping out in gale forces on the classic Bard’s Arete (V5)

 

James on the fluttery Bowling Pin (V4)

Dylan on Seven Spanish Angels/Ruccus (V6)

Lander walks up The Prow (V2)

Jess on Seven Spanish Angels/Ruccus (V6)

James courageously crushes Jedi Mind Tricks (V4)

James disco-legs up the major sandbag Suspended in Silence (V5)

Bishop has a bit of a reputation as a one-horse hick town. But contrary to what some might say, there is tonnes to do, as you can see here, especially since it is the warmest winter on record. The countryside around the town is of outstanding beauty. Extending 165 miles along the California/Nevada border between Los Angeles and Reno, the Inyo National Forest around Bishop includes 1,900,543 acres of lakes, meadows, streams, Sierra Nevada peaks ranging from 3,900 to 14,497 feet, and the Great Basin mountains.

There are more than 400 lakes and 1,100 miles of streams (brilliant for trout fishing). In Winter you can go skiing or snowboarding at Mammoth Mountain and June Mountain, and in Summer, Mammoth Mountain Ski Area becomes a mecca for mountain bikers. There are more than 1,200 miles of trail in the 1.2 million acres of wilderness backcountry for hikers. And then there’s Yosemite just a couple of hours away.

There are also some cool touristy places to visit nearby like Rock Creek, Mount Whitney (the tallest peak in the lower 48 states at 14,497 feet), and the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, at 14,000 feet, which have survived for more than 40 centuries, making them the oldest trees in the world. Today we went to visit the Hot Creek Geological Site which was pretty interesting, though probably more so if tectonic shifts and the like blow your hair back.

Hot Creek Geological Site behind Mammoth/Yosemite Airport

Watch out for unpredictable eruptions!

The Devil’s Postpile in Mammoth (though only open in Summer)

So there is loads to do…. but unfortunately the imminent snow will bring road closures, reducing potential day off activities vastly. The Tioga Pass closed for the season this afternoon, making accessing Yosemite in less than a day impossible. Roads to Mammoth and beyond will become impassable with our sketch mobile, as will roads south. This also means colder nights, so we are bracing ourselves for some pretty hideous sleeps coming up. Now that the colder weather is coming in we are also both looking out for some projects. We have a couple in the pipeline, so watch this space!

 

Bishop, Yosemite and beyond…

Driving over the Tioga Pass in to Yosemite. The pass is open in Winter for the first time in years.

After our brief visit to L.A. we headed north to the small town of Bishop where we have been for the last week. Bishop is something of a satellite town at 4,147 feet, being close to the skiing village of Mammoth and a good stopping off point for areas like San Francisco, Las Vegas or Yosemite.

On our last visit five years ago, we met a one-legged man in the local drinking hole Rusty’s who was on parole and placed in Bishop by the D.E.A. He was incredulous that we would come all the way from the UK for a holiday here. This type of local redneck probably makes up around 50 per cent of Bishop’s inhabitants who couldn’t care less for the stunning Sierra Nevada and its amazing walking, climbing and fishing. Luckily the other 50 per cent realises what an amazing resource they have on their doorsteps.

The Peabody granite boulders, with the classic Evilution (V12) on the overhang

Climbing-wise Bishop has two contrasting rock types; sandstone in the tablelands and granite in the Buttermilks and higher ranges. The granite egg-like boulders can be anything up to 20 metres (or so) with bullet hard patina creating edges or following stunning square-cut features. The climbing can often be high, technical and intimidating especially when you are new to the area (especially down-climbing the boulders), but ultimately very rewarding. In contrast, the sandstone areas of the Happies and Sads are very similar in gymnastic style to Hueco, but the rock quality can be somewhat suspect and in some quarters earns the monika ‘The Crappies’. 

3* classic Green Wall Centre (V6) @ The Peabodies

4* classic High Plains Drifter (V7) @ The Peabodies

So far we have spent a couple of days on each rock and enjoying the freedom to roam where we liked, something that was sadly missing from the organised zoo which is Hueco. As the weather has been so warm we have also been able to visit Pocketopia on the Sherwin Plateau, one of the few outlying bouldering areas near Bishop normally inaccessible in the winter. This is quite a minor venue and there are really only two problems - Everything and Nothing (V5) and Goldenrod (V6) - worth visiting. We camped up here for the night, but ended up having to sleep in everything we owned and woke with all fluids, including washing up liquid, frozen. This offset the stunning view we failed to appreciate in the morning.

3* classic Goldenrod (V6) @ Pocketopia, Sherwin Plateau

Although it’s pretty cold here at night the temperatures are hotter that they’ve been for years. The ski village of Mammoth has only seen 2 inches of snow this winter compared to 209 inches in December last year, and many people have been laid off work due to the lack of tourists. On the plus side, the Tioga Pass that connects San Francisco and Yosemite to Bishop, and winds its way up to the lofty height of 9,000 feet, has remained open.

Lu trying to stand up straight on the frozen lake, Tioga Pass

People ice skating on the frozen lake on the Tioga Pass

Half Dome, Yosemite

El Capitan, Yosemite

Neither of us had seen El Cap or Half Dome in the flesh and we were suitably impressed. Bouldering about at the bottom of these behemoths does seem rather silly when looking up at such stunning rock faces. I’d very much like to return at some point with a rope and a bit more preparation.

On the same rest day we also called into rather unique Bodie, a ‘ghost’ mining town from the late 1800’s, about 1.5 hours north east of Bishop. The population swelled from 100 to 10,000 when gold prospectors moved in to make their fortunes and then subsequently deserted leaving the current ghost town. What’s left today stands in a state of “arrested decay” and is maintained by the California State Parks System, who took over the town in 1962 to make it a State Historic Park. There are more photos here.

Bodie

Another rest day activity has been relaxing in the natural hot springs tubs. The most popular of which is the Hilltop (Pulkey’s) site just off Whitmore Tubs Road. There are plenty of these free hot tubs in the area though this one probably has the best views and the heat easily controlled with a valve (important when the water can change in temperature without warning and scold you to death!).

Pulkey’s Hot Spring

The flower power van we are driving is still attracting (unwanted?) attention and we have been lucky enough to get free camping at the back of Kmart/Vons car park. People are allowed to van camp here for up to 30 days at a time after which point you need to move to the other side of the car park. Ron, a 70-year-old fisherman and car park resident (who has been growing his beard since 1961), tells us that some sort of deal was cut with the council to allow this under the understanding a Wal-Mart wouldn’t be built here!

At other more picturesque camping areas near Bishop you may just wake up to a $10 fine attached to your windscreens

Surprisingly their freegle outlook has not been taken advantage of by too many travelling hippies and somehow seems to self-manage, though summer is a different matter we are told.  He also mentioned that attempts by housing and commercial businesses to build on land in and around Bishop have been repeatedly quashed by LA, who bought the land decades ago so they could control all the water coming through the Sierra Nevada.

As well as the RVs and vans, the car park is also inhabited by 5 cats, beavers and a couple of skunks. You might be thinking with all this wilderness that this is a bleak option, but consider that it’s much warmer at this elevation, there are toilets on-site and best of all, it’s free! This has been helping to keep the costs down, but eating healthily here is not easy on a budget. Today we went into Vons to buy a yellow pepper only to be confronted with a $4.30 (£2.80) price tag. How can it be then that Taco Bell sells a box containing 3 types of wrap/taco with and endless soft drink for $5.10? Crazy!

Our trip so far (F=Bishop, E=Yosemite, D=Bodie)

Crazy LA! And Hello Bishop!

Venice Beach Pier, LA

After 12 hours staring at the same tranquil postcard image on the drive through four American states (a red mountain surrounded by cactuses), Dylan and I arrived in LA. We were confronted with an unseasonal burning heatwave and a terrifying spaghetti tangle of five-lane interstate highways, akin to the 90’s Playstation game Ridge Racer, only scarier. I was not sure what to expect of LA after numerous negative reports from other travellers of hideous traffic, tourists, price, pace and general busyness. Well, they got the first thing right for sure – the traffic IS hideous.

LA’s hair-raising motoring is both unrelenting and a law unto itself. Imagine the excitement of five thin lanes, each inhabited by huge trucks, motorbikes and gas-guzzlers doing breakneck speeds of varying degrees whilst weaving in and out of the most unlikely of spaces. I was always pretty good at Ridge Racer, but on the computer it didn’t matter so much if you burst into flames and burnt to death. You have to change your tactic when in LA – you can’t shake your fist and swear under your breath as one might do in the UK – you stay calm, try not to put your feet through the floor, and just let those cars ‘flow’ in and out. And expect it to take at least 40 minutes – to drive anywhere.

Because everybody needs a montage……. training for Bishop, Santa Monica Beach, LA

After picking up our new van we arrived at the palm tree-lined Santa Monica Beach and had a quick flurry on the training equipment. Great fun! And I can honestly say that I have never been so thrilled to have a pint of wifebeater in my hand. The ongoing challenge to find a decent lager in America, involving multiple failed quests and many disappointing experiments, drew to a satisfying close after we found a bar that sold something stronger than dishwater. Stella was the first choice on draft – a choice reserved only to a land where Bud Light, Miller and Corrs are the tipples of the masses.

LA also presented many other delights, challenges and curiosities. Venice Beach is a mile or two down the coast, where Muscle Beach, Gold’s Gym and a straggle of LA drug-addled causalities reside. This is where you get scammed purchase your ‘prescription card’ for marijuana after a diagnosis from a stoned charlatan doctor for anything between $40 and $150 depending on how gullible you are. Then you purchase your legalised weed for extortionate prices, at about $15 a gram. Signs outside the shops claim their wares will provide relief for anything from AIDS and bad breath to cancer and anxiety (?!).

The whole Venice Beach area promotes the ‘legalise weed’ campaign, but I can’t help but wonder what would happen to their jobs/the zeitgeist of the area if that were to happen. It’s basically London’s Camden, but on the beachfront – and the Californian life dropouts mill around in droves either craving tourists attention/money, or just generally losing the plot. This place couldn’t be any further, socially or morally, from the rootin’ tootin’ outbacks of Texas.

We arrived at Venice Beach Pier just in time for a molten red sunset, which was breathtaking.

Seafront residents are what a travel writer might describe as ‘achingly hip’, all hanging out in trendy coffee shops blogging/writing a screen play/novel on their laptops, smoking fags, stroking their beards, and trying really hard to look cool. Town dwellers were a different breed; all coiffured barnets, Gucci handbags, plastic boobs, and miniature dogs with Chanel coats and matching diamante collars.

After spending the night in Wal-mart car park (loads of security but no one bothered us, result) we drove down to the Hollywood Walk of Fame, an anti-climax akin to arriving at the airport to a cancelled flight. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it’s basically a regular city street with some handprints in the pavement. So without stopping we headed off for a cruise up in the hills along Mulholland Drive, which was less confusing than the movie and provided some cool views over LA, and we also got to see some grand evil genius houses perched on the hilltops along the way.

View over LA from the hills

On our last day we drove down to The Grove, a posh shopping centre with its own tram, designed like a film set from as Disney production, and The Farmer’s Market, a fine cuisine selection which would have Foley and Morton coming in their pants, crammed with falafel and quail’s eggs etc. We bought some sausages, which pretty much wiped our budget for the month. We also wanted to check out the Brea Tar Pits, a recommendation from the lovely people from UKBouldering. This was a brilliant suggestion thank you! Not only is the museum a real spectacle, but also the story and history behind the tar pits are fascinating.

This mammoth lived circa 40,000 years ago, and was discovered in the tar pits, located in central LA, in the 1960s

A buffalo…. or a bison?

A ground sloth… much taller than a full-grown man. They walked on their knuckles

After a quick cruise down Santa Monica Boulevard (theatres), Sunset Strip (bars, clubs and the infamous Viper Rooms), and Beverly Hills (HUGE houses), we set off for Bishop. Overall, I actually quite liked LA, especially the beaches, trendy cafes and laid-back approach, though the pretention, mad people and traffic would drive me mad after a few days!

Bishop, CA… a breath of fresh air

Now we have arrived in Bishop the relief of being in our own van again is rather overwhelming. The restraints of the Hueco regimen and also being confined to the same four pink hotel room walls (a bit like living inside a vulva for a month) by a five-lane motorway in El Paso was getting a bit much. The freedom of van living is indescribable, and it has completely changed the outlook of the trip. Moreover, the weather is absolutely brilliant in Bishop – if not a bit hot!

Our uniquely decorated van. Peace and love, man.

Our first day in Bishop reaffirmed my faith in human nature. I had run out of money trying to buy some things in Kmart and after asking the sales assistant to remove one item from the basket (a bottle of wine), she just swiped her card and gave me a $4 discount. Brilliant! Then I found some second hand almost new Jet 7s in my size for $65, and some gorgeous Dickies trousers in the charity shop for $5. Then we went in to the Sads and did a team flash of Mollie (V5). A brilliant first day. May it continue!