Wednesday, 15 May 2013

132 calories in a 330ml can of Heineken

Chris trying trying to Free the Monster, please stay dry!

10 days since the life ruiner, everyone's been real nice knowing it's my first. Iced/icing it to within an inch of it's life, hand buzzing with blood like it was cartoon radioactive (waa waa waa). Easy climbing and iBRUprofen gel. Tonight I climbed with some tape on and did some yellows at the works, absolutely buzzing (could it not even be a partial?). last night I went shoe-less to the Tor with recent Hull evacuee Lee Cooper, got him on the classics and tried to force him into loving it, he'll come round soon enough. Distracted from staring at potential filming positions I made embarrassing orgasmic noises encouraging some lad CRUSH Mecca sans knee-slags. Seems strange because it's obviously eliminate but it fits in with other anecdotes I hear "James flashed Rock Atrocity the Malc way", "Barrows did bear claw with a pad". 

going once, going twice, and not sold to the paper boy in the green. Auctioneer 8a+.

Did a bit of filming on a rope at the WCJ cornice, need a seat or access harness as it was a complete bastard on the old pins and the spine-in-a-bap.'Trad man' Oli has forgot his roots and been sports climbing. More films soon, hopefully not just of Oli though as yewtree will be all over me. 

Fake monster from Guy Van Greuning on Vimeo.

When I try to express what it is about climbing I've become so obsessed about I write-then-delete write-then-delete, the space bar a game of pong with words like deep and simple appearing then gone. When I try to express what it feels like to climb the words bubble up from my stomach rather than the head, that's not a metaphor but how it actually feels. The metaphor would be that there is a cork in my throat preventing this lexicon vomit, a cork that can dissolved with beer, or something, I don't know....what is the cork made of? 

A great writer, and drunk, once said "you lose it if you talk about it", god knows what he meant I never met the man, but to me it can work in two ways - 1) a release of trauma or 2) a warning, to keep the indescribable exactly that and keep a fire in the belly. My favourite writing is one that puts you in their position, palm sweating. Unclesomebody's minute detailing and Alex Mason's grand missions. It feels as if the movement and action is put across but the reason for it is silent but shared, in Mason's case not so silent screaming FUCK YOU at Gogarth's coastline.

I like this song, painfully hipster name AND it's a remix but when the real deal kicks in it's great. i'll try to use this in a video, however the start sort of hurts my ears? 



Tuesday, 7 May 2013

warm up for your warm up before you do the warm up

Blimey, this seam is thin, I’ll just hack my foot up onto this hold and. . . “oh no”. A dull cracking sound, like a pencil being snapped underwater, precedes a sense of foreboding gloom, there is no pain right now, only instantaneous grief.

Skip back a few days.

Liam, baskin'
We’d been to Rhoscolyn, I bottled Electric Blue, I got cold and scared filming the fun time boys.  It’ll be better in high summer, making a deal up there on the cliff top. Early morning boldness on Savage Sunbird and moving fast on The Sun, I kept repeating the same Alan Partridge joke while I was on the sun, everyone got it but I persisted, ARE YOU NOT AMUSED. Liam did warpath, Tim did Magellan's wall , Mark did the route I should have done, Centrefold, and I boa constrictor-ed myself on our hanging belay, wrapping the ropes around my legs. Al put in a good show, running it out above my head on Dreams and Screams with Jemma  belaying from somewhere inside my lower intestine.

Rhoscolyn DWS from Guy Van Greuning on Vimeo.

 I had plans on going back to my home town so had to duck out of a bank holiday trip to Wales, I consoled myself with the fact I’d still get 2 days climbing in the beautiful weather the peak was currently having. Home was good, my mum had bought me a headband from Norway, grit chic. Due to a lack of licenses Jon and I were going to catch the bus over to Millers dale and if the tor was a furnace walk the nice walk over the cheedale. Wake up on Sunday morning at 8am, pack bags and grab some food. Walk up the hill the bus stop, 9.43am Jon rings from further down ecclesall road and says the bus just went past him without stopping, full to the brim. Next bus at 2pm. Fuuuuucccckkkkkkkk. Semi-Contain adult tantrum and decide to catch a bus to Matlock. 1 hour 30 minutes later we arrived in the town and walked over to Long Tor, admired the admirable High Tor. “it's ok I’ll climb there tomorrow” I told myself. At the crag Jon brushed his way up the 6c+ Jade. Pulling the ropes I headed up after him, two moves in and. . .see top.
 It’s most certainly the A2 pulley on the ring finger of the right hand, bog standard injury. Your time has come, grab a ticket, get in line. I don’t have an ice pack at home and the peas aren't working so I freeze the tomato purée tube and wrap it round my finger. I know what’s needed, I've read enough online. I need an ice cube tray and diligence   
peas (frozen) out, I'm off to do some sit ups and drink some wine, more of one. 

Chris is sponsored by the material, leather.
Zippy's Traverse, Crag X

Moffatrocity, Crag X