After last Saturday and Sunday trips to quarry failed, today I went for it again. Foolishly or not without checking to see if the area was closed. Surely there would not be another event so soon after the five day national mountain biking event. I’m pleased to say it was third time lucky for me. A term I have delved into previously, but only dipping my toe into its history. Picking the most fun theory, one that has been classed a debunked myth. It’s meaning is pretty obvious and the first know related written use was in 1839, stated as being proverbial:
There is however no record I can find of how far back the saying may originate from. That first published use was the luck of the third adventure, so it suited my success today. It was not until 1862 that the more modern take of third time’s lucky was written. Another take on all of this being the proverb if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again that was made popular by the book The Singing Master in 1836. This book contained a rhyme that opened with the line ‘Tis a lesson you should heed: Try, try, try again. If at first you don’t succeed, Try, try, try again:
I had a feel that I may need to try, try, try again today. Being a hit and miss day for several reasons. Elseya had lovingly shared a lurgy with me earlier in the week, for which I was using positive thinking to shake before this morning’s adventure. Then there was the forecast, another glorious week was coming to an end, just as the weekend approached. There was a risk of a sprinkle up the hill. Only a little one, but the change would like bring with it a higher level of humidity. On the plus side I could drive in the backway, which was lovely:
Rather than following cars on the highway like a line of sheep, I drove along winding roads with great vistas and on occasion paddocks full of sheep. It was a cloudy morning, but other than that it looked reasonable. A bit of cloud hung above the reservoir providing a specky view of the sun, and mist lingered for a while in the valley below the dam. Making for an atmospheric start to the morning, before getting stuck into what I came here for. And seeing I have ranted on about threes, there was a third reason I felt I may be try, try, trying again:
My last trip here was relatively sedate, picking the teenager climbs from 17 to 19. Today I decided I would hit a selection of very fine and only grade 20 climbs (UK E2 6b). Maybe a bit dumb seeing I was coming off the back of a lurgy, and it was a little sticky today. Only time would tell how I would fare. At least no one was about to observe my endeavours, good or bad. A stark contrast to when Howsie and I found this place packed to the point you’d struggle to see a blade of grass. This morning it was all mine, other than birds flying by:
I was going to go down the grading system rabbit hole and debate which is best, when, and why, but somehow got distracted. While I’ve referenced the UK grade of the climbs I was aiming for, that system is far better suited to trad climbing. A style that often adds a significant level of spice to any route, being responsible for your own protection. This was however sport climbing, clipping bolts. For which some suggest the French system is best, and that grade interestingly uses exactly the same terminology as the UK technical grade of 6b:
As for how I went. The first line felt greasy and a bit touch and go; the second tiring and the arms felt it; and by the third I was getting into the swing of things and it was pretty smooth. The fourth went back to tiring and the arms were definitely feeling it but it wasn’t until the last climb above that I slipped, twice. It was also the time the darks clouds in the previous image dropped their moisture on me. But I did get the second lap clean, so all in all I had great success. Adding to the success of being able to get into the place this time, and the below success I had on the drive out. It seems that good things do come in threes:
