The plans were all set for a foray up to Welly Dam last weekend, but they fell apart. I instead had a very unusual day, for me, of lying on the sofa and watching TV. This lasted the whole day, as my body resisted any notion of getting up and doing anything. This made me even more keen to get out this weekend, and no this is not a Deja-vu post in which I have recycled images of my trip two weeks back with Mikey. Ash was keen to get out and he chose the location. We almost went for a boulder at Redgate Beach, which some will be surprised to hear I had suggested, but that didn’t transpire and so we stuck with Moses Rocks:
I got to the carpark a little early, so wandered up the dune for a different view before heading to and sitting on the beach. Here I watched a pair of Pied Oystercatchers go about their business, burrowing in the sand. They didn’t seem too worried about me creeping closer and closer to them, and I can only assume it was due to my slow and steady movements. That was until a wave almost caught me out, and as I scrambled to avoid getting soaked they were off. The timing was good, Ash walked over the dune just as I was getting back to my feet. He had been here before to boulder but had not climbed on, nor even looked at, the main cliffs:
It was another angry ocean day. The waves were not coming in as clean barrels, which Mikey and I had been lucky to watch for the whole morning. Today the waves were messy, and the ocean was a white, boiling and relentless mass that continually nibbled at the coastline. As we walked in, I was trying to figure out if more of the beach had disappeared. With the luxury of being able to cross-reference my images from two weeks back, sadly the answer is yes. Less of the beach exists and more worryingly, parts of the dunal system that the beach once protected were now showing signs of being eroded away:
The beach can and will be replenished with the changing seasons, but the dunes once they start to erode will not be replenished. And with a couple more fronts to hit the western coastline over the next week, more damage may yet occur. We walked past what was left of the beach and once at the rock our, or at least my, thoughts focused on the more positive side of having come out here. The obvious place to come for a first visit is Hand’s Up Wall, and while I was happy for Ash to have a bash at leading any of the routes, I was keen not to lead any repeat lines from my recent trip two week back:
Now I am fully aware Ash hasn’t done a lot of lead climbing, and even less trad lead climbing. But there are some well protected mid to low grade lines here I thought would be good for him to lead. However, he hinted about the limited amount of climbing he had done in recent months. Going on to indicate his climbing fitness may not be sufficient to take on the mental challenge of leading. I offered for him to take the floppy end, after each lead, but he was more than happy have the safety of the rope above him. It felt like a role reversal from the previous trip, but that was all good. And we took a slow and steady pace, allowing lots of time to soak up the joy of just being here:
It will not be obvious from the images, and it really wasn’t planned, but I ended up picking one type of protection and only using that for each climb. The first route of Hands Up is always best climbed with tricams due to its shallow and super flared crack. The second line was Wheely Things and its very fun, mostly parallel, crack eagerly gobbles up cams. It was after this line that I decided maybe I should climb a line with just wires, which is probably the most challenging type of protection to use here. The weaknesses in the rock tend not to suit their use, at least not for an entire line and certainly not with confidence:
However, on Gothic Streak they worked surprisingly well. Each wire was so well set that Ash needed to tap each with the nut key, before being able to get them out. Seeing I was leading, I’d stuck to my plan and the three climbs so far were not repeats from the last trip here. And next I considered going fully bolted on Twist Until You Lock, again not a repeat line. But having enjoyed the trad leads so much I decided on a route I had done with Mikey, Johnny Fartpants. This time however I intended to, and did, climb it gritstone style. This meant not clipping the two bolts and instead placing trad. This made it a more runout climb, but the available trad gear high and good enough to avoid the risk of a ground-fall:
Ash was certainty enjoying the lines at Moses Rocks. As we walked out he admitted he had been a bit sceptical about coming here, with such short and lower grade climbs. But due to the lack of positive in-cut holds, these short routes require you to stay focused all the time. And with no true rests they are engaging the whole way up and feel longer than they actually are. Added to that he said several times that the rock felt really good, with great friction even when it is not completely dry but not sharp and painful. I think it is safe to say Ash had been converted and was already talking about wanting to come back, and not just due to the great climbing but also the situation and atmosphere:
To avoid repeating lines we moved to the Northern Blocks, which are the faces that can be seen behind the Pied Oystercatchers in the second image. Ash was still enjoying going second and made no indication of wanting to lead anything. So in making my decision of what to do, I was swayed by my gritstone style ascent of Johnny Fartpants. As such it seemed appropriate to climb Hathersage, which is named after the village in the centre of the Peak District in Britain. Where the infamous gritstone can be found. After Hathersage I had in mind to continue with the theme and climb The Plough, the furthest buttress in this image:
I suggested that Ash could anchor in from our vantage point and I scramble down and traverse into the base before climbing the route. But with all the white water bubbling away below the base, the idea didn’t sit completely well with him. I might add that The Plough is named after a pub located in Hathersage, and we used to camp in the paddock out the back of it during our climbing trips to the Peak District. If you are keen you can see an image of The Plough pub, which also has white all-round the base as well as roof, in this post https://sandbagged.blog/2017/07/30/part-4-the-peak-district-learning-the-ropes/:
My backup plan was bumping it up a grade with Kami-kaze Catfish, a route with a name that is pretty bizarre and I would be interested to know the history of it. The first ascentist is however unknown, so I will probably never find out. It has been ages since I’ve been on it, and it was an absolute cracker to finish on. As ash followed I see his climbing fitness was waning and reaching its limit. But with a bit of beta at the critical moments he managed, as he had done all day, a clean ascent. We both agreed it had been another wonderful day on rock! And thinking about gritstone style trad leads and memories of the Peak District, where I learnt the ropes, it felt a little like I was going back to my roots:
Sandbagged 