Sport Climbing in the Peak

Not only do I live close to some amazing traditional style climbing on  gritstone and limestone in the Peak District, I also have some fantastic limestone quarried sport climbing. And early last year I was offered the opportunity to explore it. I first met Sam while on my trip to Scotland with the Wolverhampton Mountaineering Club, and he then asked me if I fancied climbing with him sometime as we lived so close together with plenty of local crags.  

First meeting Sam (left) in Scotland

Sport vs. Traditional

Climbing is a world of slang, abbreviation and has many areas within it, that includes the style in which you can climb. Some routes are climbed in a sport style which involves the use of preplaced protection usually in the form of bolts or staples in a rock face to clip the rope into as you move up a route. 

On the other hand traditional climbing involves the placement of protection in the form of nuts, camming devices and slings in and around natural features such as cracks, spikes and holes. Both these forms of climbing use the protection to arrest any form of fall and minimise the risk of injury. 

The more involved you become in the world of climbing, the more you see the for's and against's of each style. Some people favour one over the other, some say bolts deface a crag and others say bolts make a dangerous unprotected route safer. But as a new climber I want to just do and climb as much as possible, whatever the style.

First sport climbing venue

Horseshoe quarry was my first sport climbing crag and where I put my new to skills of how to climb and descend a route safety into practice. Climbing in a quarry is always a risky affair with the potential for loose rock which is constantly being created through periods of freezing conditions and then thaw cycles, this makes wearing a helmet particularly important as a belayer. Horseshoe quarry  had a great draw for me particularly as it offers a wide range of low to mid grade climbing routes and with some particularly interesting route names.

Main area at Horseshoe Quarry

Endless routes

 

 

I started off on a few short and very easy routes to put into practice the method Sam had taught me of clipping into the top bolts of a route with my cowstail (a sling attached to my harness with a screw gate karabiner on the other to clip into the bolts), then threading the rope through the top bolts and  reattaching it to myself with a figure of eight knot and a screw gate karabiner. All this enabled me to be lowered back down the route without leaving any gear behind and just pulling the rope back down.

 This process is yet another skills that if completed incorrectly could have dangerous and potentially life threatening implications and I cannot stress enough the importance of the learning this skill off in a safe position at ground level and with the guidance of a professional instructor or an experienced climber.

Once I felt comfortable attaching myself at the top of the route with my cowstail  and then rethreading the top out bolts, I moved onto some steeper and more challenging terrain. The first area of exploration was the delightfully named Latrine area with such routes as Thomas Crapper and the Bog.

Latrine Area

Long way down

 

Bolts don't always mean safe

The use of preplaced protection in the form of bolts or staples allows you to try generally more difficult routes than when climbing in a traditional style. This is due to feeling being safer if you fall off a route as the bolts are normally a secure form of protection, however when moving up a line of bolts you must always monitor there condition and make a judgement call whether they are fit for use. 

Other areas in the Peak

I've now visited a number of other quarries and areas around Matlock, Buxton and Ashbourne to climb a variety of different routes. I've used a number of guidebooks, but 'From Horseshoe to Harpur Hill' by Gary Gibson is the best I have found due to it's quality information, simple layout and a focus of low to mid grade climbing. 

Coleshill Quarry

 

Why give it a go? 

Sports climbing is another string to your climbers bow as it opens new areas, often different types of routes and rock and also due to it's style of protection allows you to push your climbing grade. However, like all climbing it's a extremely important to know the correct and safest methods for topping out and lowering off these routes. And even though the British Mountaineering Council instructional videos offer superb and high quality information, if in doubt consult a qualified instructor. 

I've tried to give you a brief overview of my experience of sport climbing in the Peak District. If I honest it's not my favour style of climbing, but is very enjoyable none the less. For videos and instruction of climbing and probably a much better discription of the difference between traditional and sport please visit the British Mountaineering Council website.

Most of all stay safe, enjoy and give it a go! Also please feel free to add any comments on my piece and any suggests of other good crags to try out in this area!

North of the Border

(March 2014)

I've never been the most stereotypical young man a lot of the time, and not many would celebrate their 21st birthday in snowy Scotland. Well I did and it was great! 

Geared up

 

 

My week off was approaching and just happened to be the same week as the Wolverhampton Mountaineering Clubs meet in the Cairngorms. I arranged to meet a few of the members up at the cottage where they would be stopping at on the Monday evening. 

This would be my first adventure into the Scotland and also my first long distance drive. And wow, it was a long way! I made my way up into the Scottish heartland of the Cairngorms and soon began to appreciate this vast wilderness of mountains, glens and fast moving clag (cloud). 

I arrived at Mill Cottage after a slight detour via a thick wooden area and a dead end single track lane. I was greeted by Pete and a freshly boiled kettle, and stared out of the window at the fading light falling across the wooden valley we sat in. 

Above the snowline

The first day was spent kicking my way up through the snow on Cairngorm mountain itself that reached high above the Aviemore ski centre. This short trip was my first experience moving across snow covered, fairly steep ground. The descent lead us back down to the carpark via the sparsely snow covered ski pistes and a exposed stone path lower down the route.

 

Aviemore Ski Centre and Cairngorm mountain shrouded in cloud

The night saw Dave, Sam and Rich pondering over a large map on the cottage wall, showing the many peaks that surrounded this particular area. While plans for the following day were discussed, I cracked on with cooking dinner of chicken fajitas for me, Pete and Mick. On trips I have continued to find meals and cooking the main entertainment of the evening as it involves everyone mixing together, having a few drinks and getting the stories and tales flowing. Oh and you also get to eat!

 

Me, Dave, Rich and Sam set off early the following day driving up the road and into the opposite valley, where we parked amongst an area of forestry commission planation's and a shallow briskly flowing river. I began the walk fully kitted up complete with a jacket, beanie hat and gloves. But within a few hundred metres of steepening ground my hyperactive production of body heat kicked in. I ended up stripping down to just my base layer as we weaved our way through the lower part of the wooded hillside, being baked by glorious and entirely abnormal Scottish sunshine. I slogged my way up the ever steeper terrain sweating profusely down my forehead and into my stinging eyes, .

 

As the treeline ended and we moved out onto the open heathland the wind soon picked up, rushing towards us as it funnelled between the valley walls. Soon as the altitude increased, we had to shelter behind a low dry wall to put on our jackets and gloves. The dampness from my earlier perspiration cooling rapidly in the wind and starting to suck heat from my body. This soon became a key lesson learnt about thermoregulation to try and minimise sweating as much as possible and even small amounts of moisture on clothes and hair caused can suck the heat from you as the temperature drops.

Heathland above the treeline

 

 

The path soon reached a suspect looking snow covered incline as Dave pointed out a potential avalanche risk, we made our way around this particular on more stable rocky ground. This observation indicated the importance of both spending time with experienced mountaineers, but also learning these key skills yourself to identify and minimise risk. The ground flattened and opened out to a large spongy plateau, known as the Great Moss, this area due to its attitude and gradient held large patches of snow that we soon began wading through.

 

 

Corniced edge on the summit ridge

Sam and Rich wrapped up

 

The wind continued to increase and howl across the vast openness of the plateau, as we made our way across towards the summit cairn. The view from the summit down into the valley below was the breath-taking and scary, with a several hundred metre drop should you tumble off the edge. The surrounding felt very atmospheric as we were circled by large grey cloud, the wind whipping up loose snow powder and clag hovering low to the ground. The edge from the summit leading into the abysses of the valley below was bordered by huge cornices (free hanging drifts of snow) created by the powerful gusts compacting and carving snow into unstable wave like structures. Yet another hazard when moving close to the edge of steep gradient terrain.

 



Edge of the abysses and valley below 

 

 

After hunkering down behind the summit cairn for a photo, we began our descent as the weather turned and close in around us. Sam lead the way down a scree and snow lined gully to some more friendly and pleasant heathland ground below, following the contours lines we picked out from the map to ensure our movements were in the right direction. The arrival into the treeline offered a great relief from the ever increasing winds that continued to sweep across the open and exposed ground above.

Ground easing below

 

 

Skills for the hills
The rest of the week flew by, and unfortunately without any skiing due to the strong winds and persistent rain. But I took a lot from my first experience of winter walking and exploration of the Cairngorm range. The main things the importance to have the correct equipment and correct skill set to use it, as well as the knowledge for making judgement on route finding, terrain evaluation and weather observation. This brief period in this vast, wilderness offered the reality of rapid changing conditions, necessity of judgment for clothing layers and also how to spot sometimes hidden hazards such as cornices and rocks beneath the snow.    

 

My best advice is get on a training course, go out with some experienced winter hill walkers and  watch plenty of British Mountaineering Council skills videos and articles. But mostly importantly don't be scared of getting out there once you have some knowledge and guidance, if you have the right skills and knowledge winter mountaineering and walking is an exciting and truly magically experience.  

True Staffordshire Grit

(9th March 2014)
I've lived in Staffordshire all of my life and had until this point been completely oblivious to the fact we have some of the best climbing in the UK in the county. My first taste of traditional climbing (placing protection into nature features in the rock to hopefully hold your fall) came along with the member of the Wolverhampton Mountaineering Club at the Roaches. This is the playground of some of the British climbers of the past and present including Joe Brown and Don Whillans, who set many of the routes in leather boots and homemade gear. This era was the true test of grit and courage with little options to make your climbing safe. 

Grit stone is known for his high friction surface due to it's gritty texture and general bold nature of the climbing. The Roaches is no exception with the classic Sloth (an overhanging rock face) the main focus of the main wall, dyed green with years of mossy and lichen growth. 

First grit expedition

 

I arrived late after a morning at work to meet the group who had been basking in glorious sunshine on a summery day in March. I managed to somehow get completely lost and fall down a steep muddy bank, before stumbling across them. 

I was paired up with the chairman of the club Dave, a veteran climber and world leading mountaineering on expeditions to K2 (second highest mountain on earth), the Karakoram, the Andes and the Alps. He tied into the end of the rope and described the route we would be following and then set off with his famous silk footwork. He feet moved from edge to edge and then flattening against an almost vertical surface using the gritstone famous friction. He placed solid protection it small and for the ground unseen placements, and steadily progressed up the face to disappeared through a groove that top of the crag. Soon he shouted he was safety secured and it was my turn to follow. 

 

I repeated the process as Dave, tying in with the rope, wiping my climbing shoes free of grit and shouting "Climbing!". The rope was kept tight as I climbed, I slowly edged my way up and used a new technique of smearing flat onto the high friction surface. I reached the first piece of protection and fumbled with my nut key to loosen it's tight grip from a tapering crack. 

The higher I climbed the easier I moved, my eyes finding hidden pockets and rounded holds to palm off against. The last section eased in angle and I scrambled through the hole that Dave had disappeared. I was greeted with a flat moor behind the crag and the sun slowly setting to as I turned to the look back the way I came. The light casting a golden hue across the scattering of boulders and tall pines peppering the hillside below. 

We coiled the ropes in a method only used by cavers, that looked more like a mess than any particular order. Daisy chaining with a twist and loop and then bundle onto outer backs. We skidded and slide our way down the grassy and dirt path in our slick rock shoes and re-joined the rest of the group. Once we packed up our gear and headed for the cars, the light finally began to fade below the horizon. What on end to a perfect first taste of True Staffordshire Grit!

Go find your hidden gem

I was overwhelmed at the history and range of climbing in Staffordshire. Always wanted to try climbing? Then go find a club, climbing gym or local instructor. Once you've learnt the ropes, there's probably an adventure on your doorstep. Just like there was for me!

From Plough To Parallel (St Anton, Austria)

(February 2014)

I'd always dreamed of trying to ski and seen pictures of people sat on terraced bars high on the side of a mountain drinking and then twisting and turning their way to the valley floor through deep powder and trees. So once I found out one of friends Dave was up for heading out for a trip I jumped at the chance.

 

My snow education began in the not so alpine Tamworth, a small town in Staffordshire which just happens to have a rather large indoor ski slope. I booked myself into a course called 'Ski in a day' which sounded just the ticket for preparing for a trip to the mountains on my first skiing adventure. I arrived at the SnowDome and was kitted out with boots, helmet, ski's and a pile of paperwork to sign and fill out. Our instructor for the day was a veteran ski guide that had worked all over the world and he soon had us sliding down the beginner slopes balancing on one leg and making the critical V shaped position with our ski's essential for stopping and turning. As the day progressed I started removing more and more clothing as I had never realised how much work falling over and getting back up was on an icy slope, and skiing is pretty hard work as well. I progressed pretty well and was sufficiently able by the end of the day to stop, turn right, turn leftish and also dodge passing snowboarder fairly well.

Austrian Adventure

The trip started with a long three hour drive from the midlands to Gatwick Airport, and then a short two hour flight into the beautiful city of Innsbruck located at the base of a valley. We made our way outside into the coach park chaos and spent ten minutes walking around for our transfer to arrive that ferried us higher up the valley to the small valley of St Anton. We entered our lodging for the week a warm and comfortable chalet overlooking the snowfields above and the main street in the village below.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first day started with Dave taking me up the mountain to try my first run of the trip, what he described a gentle blue that weaved its way back the base of the lift again. I clipped in and started following him slowly down the winding pistes and trails between, doing ok with my half plough and half parallel technique until I hit deeper snow and took several tumbles. I finally made it back to the base of the lift and to meet our guide for the week Connie, who knew at once her efforts must be focused on making me a more efficient skier to enjoy the trip. Shaken by the earlier encounter with my first steep and terrifying piste, she groomed my technique slowly into a fairly reliable parallel over the next two days. The week continued on well, me plodding along behind Dave and Connie on mainly blue, the occasional wide red run and then on a short terrifying section of black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Off piste activities

The nightlife off the slopes is famous in St Anton and we sampled as much as possible without writing off a whole following day of skiing. The partying started on the slopes around half three in the afternoon at the Après ski bars like the Crazy Kangaroo and Mooserwirt, where by the time it reached half five the tables where the dance floors. We would then slide down the last few hundred metres of slopes and catch the last lifts and hobble up the final hill back to the chalet. After a shower and dinner, the town would often be calling and date with the smoke filled bars, shots of Jager and steins of beer numbed the pain of aching legs and a sore arse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

St Anton also offered a superb public pool and sauna that offered some relief to the non stop drinking after dark. We made our way to relax and refresh stripping down naked (as is Austrian tradition) and heading for the hot steaming rooms. I went for the cooler option and ended up spending 20 minutes sharing a small glass box with a sweaty American man, while Dave got two attractive ladies doing yoga. He definitely won that one!

Fearing for my life

 

As Connie left us for the final few days to explore by ourselves, we decided to head across to the opposite valley and explore Lech another small village. The bus took us up the pass and across through the worst condition of the holiday to the base of the large gondola that would transport us up into the mountains. The snow fell gently through the air and the sky was grey and bleak, we began weaving our way across the hillside. My confidence seemed at a all time low today as with an hour I had seen one person get airlifted off the mountain on a fairly easy stretch of the slope. I soon struggled to turn and had to take an extended lunch break to regain some confidence. I dogged the rest of the day and retreated for a night's rest. 

The final day turned out to be perfect, if not icy conditions on the piste. I started off steadily making a few runs down some twisting blues, dodging the daily mogul (a hard bump of snow) build up. But my brain was still doubting my ability to ski and focusing on the deadly drops off the edges of the runs and the risk of tumbling down the steep icy banks. I once again had to take a step back and headed for a break, before returning to the slopes to meet Dave for lunch. I stomached up enough determination to make a final few runs of the holiday and even ventured back onto a red (intermediate) slope. 

The holiday was drawing to a close and was finished off in style at the Fang House Après bar overlooking the mountains. Of course complete with some half litre steins of beer and some shots of jäger. The next day would be our return flight home and yet another three hour drive back to the midlands.  

 

Is it worth it?

The short answer is YES! Skiing is no doubt expensive and an often laborious process to learn even to a basic standard, but the feeling of gliding down a perfect white mountainside through the trees and with friends is amazing. And then to finish the day watching the sun set on a terraced bar with a few drinks, it doesn't get much better.

Taking the Lead

My first mountaineering club meet started on a dark Friday driving through Wolverhampton on my way to Steve's house who was going to give me a lift up to Wales. We loaded up the car and headed off, stopping at the off license to stock up on wine to go with a mountain of cheese that Steve had brought along. The conversation flowed quite well as Steve had a fantastic range of stories to keep us entertained and his friend Mark talked now and again about his time in Russia where he worked. 

The new experiences kept on coming that weekend as I arrived at the club hut and settled into a bunk room with a group of complete strangers in my cheap thin sleeping bag. We sat in the living room on mix of old chairs wrapped up in jumpers and coats as the open fire offered only enough heat to warm the people sat closest to it. Chatting and digging into Steve's vast cheese selection and pickles. These strange new characters would soon become friends and partners out in the hills. 

The next day started cold and wet, and I suddenly realised I hadn't got sufficient waterproofing (a sign of my inexperience). Steve luckily suggested heading indoors to the Beacon Climbing Centre which had just held to the Welsh National climbing Championships. We stopped off via Pete's Eats (a local climbers café based in Llanbersis) for breakfast before heading off to the centre. 

 

The transition

The movement from the safety of a top rope to the hazards of leading are plain to  see. A miss clipped quickdraw and a long fall is assured! I start off by following Dan's commands under the safety net of a top rope while leading off another, clipping into the bolts as I moved up. Once I had the basic principles I felt confident to take on the towering main wall on one of the easier juggy routes up the overhang. If you can't walk, you may as well run. (Well that was my logic!)





 

However, before that I got to enjoy watching Steve get a lesson to how to lead belay off Dan. This involved Dan climbing half way up a route, pulling up an arm length of slack and jumping off. The end result was that Steve could sufficiently stop a fall, but also he had a large graze as he was pulled violently against the wall by Dan's falling weight.

 

Getting ahead of the rope

 

Once tied in securely and a trail of slack rope hanging behind me like slug slime I headed off. I started steadily clipping bolts and then unclicking bolts to turn the rope the correct way around as not to become free of the wall if I fell off. My venerable position soon became ever present hanging ten metres from the ground and several feet above my last point of correct with the wall, meaning a longer fall then I was normally use to and a heavy contact with the wall. From here on out it was a head game, edging myself higher each time as I clicked into to each piece of protection and then battling not to freeze as I pulled up a length of slack to make the next clip.

 

Within in a few minutes I was nearing the top of the route and the safety of the lower off bolts once I was securely attached to the them. However, things were on not going so smoothly in my mind. I constant repetition of "Please don't fall, please don't fall!" and "This is it Joe, your going to have to explain a broken wrist or ankle to your mom!". My left leg suddenly turned to jelly and began shaking uncontrollably, a kind of Elvis impression about 20 metres off the ground. And then their were my arms, tensed and wooden as I gripped each hold for dear life! The final click came and one big effort to pull up 20 metres of rope on one arm and attach myself safely to the wall and allowing me to let go and be lowered to the ground.

Saturday night when the lights are low

The return to hut that evening had a great sense of achievement and sweetness as everyone else had endured a day of being blasted by heavy rain and wind on the hills around us. The drying rack above the fire hung heavy with saturated coats and pants, and the air damp with wet bodies. I once again sat huddled on a old, yet comfortable settee listening to tales of adventures on the peaks of the Karakoram and foot hills of the Himalaya. This might not be everyone's dream night, but it was pretty cool to me.  

Clubs for Pubs!

I read to no end of articles saying that mountaineering club memberships in the UK are in decline and that may well be statistically true, but by finding Wolverhampton Mountaineering Club I've thrived. That name will be ever present throughout my posts which I hope highlights its importance in my adventures, journey and completion of my apprenticeship.

 

Finding a club

I love researching things and finding the things I want for a cheaper price, better quality or just a superior over all experience. Finding a club was no exception in terms of  finding a better overall experience with friendly, helpful and experienced members willing to teach me the ropes. My first internet search through up a number of clubs across the Midlands area and as I do, I started firing out emails and seeing who replied first.

 

 My first hit came from a Birmingham based club which was I little far from my house, but I thought I would give it a shot anyway. I set off down the motorway at rush hour on a cold December night in search of the Creation Climbing Centre, I parked up in not the most confidence expelling setting of a dark, poorly lit side road with "Lock up your valuables!" notices on every available surfaces. I entered a cold dark climbing centre which appeared to be an old church and meet a few members of the club climbing away on grades well out of my league. The lady I had emailed greeted me and introduced me to a few of the other members, they were all friendly and I set off up a few routes. The night went on ok, conversation  was a bit difficult as it always is meeting new groups and always feeling the outcast. I got passed around a bit as people left and headed to the pub for a pint and even though I was invited I decided to head off home as I had quite a distance to drive. I left feeling not unwanted, but not wanted at the same time and knew that I must continue on my search.

 

The WMC

The club hadn't actually responded to my email, but I thought I would give it a try anyway. I walked into The Great Western pub in Wolverhampton and asked at the bar for the Mountaineering Club and was directed to a table of older gentlemen with a glass of whisky and a bag of ready salted crisps between them (my first thought was these are not hard-core climbers, but how wrong I was) . I approach the table and asked for the club, I was meet by a man with a wide smile and a long grey beard (Pete) who invited me to the table. He asked me about myself and started informing me about the club, soon I was surrounded by more members entering the room chatting about big plans for the weekend ahead and tales of previous adventures. All I could talk about was a day top roping with Wolf Mountain Climbing centre, but never the less they all involved me in their chats. I suddenly began to fill with inspiration of what I wanted to achieve as they spoke about their expeditions and also a feeling of trepidation as my sudden incompetence compared to these experienced adventures became exposed. But I felt inclined to return the following week after their warm welcome.  

 

Over the next few weeks I once again was looked after by Pete and another perspective member Steve who had been coming to the club for a while, but had never really joined. I continued to feel slightly outcast however, but suddenly realised Dan from the outdoor day had also come along and felt slightly less alone with my inexperience and lack of stories. A weekend meet was approaching and was invited by a few of the members and in particular Steve who offered me a lift along with Dan and one of his friends up to Wales. Steve really made me feel welcome each week and offered me support as a outsider along with Pete and a number of other friendly members. And so my journey with club had begun.

 

Top 5 tips for getting involved with a club

 1. Just go and talk to them (even if you haven't had an email back, but most clubs are getting better at this)

2. Stick with it and keep going (you may feel like an outcast, everyone does at first. Just keep going and talking)

3. Get involved (Make conversation, ask questions, take invitations and don't just sit there in silence)

4. Don't feel boring (Your new to the game, you won't have many stories. But be inspired by the others that do, you will soon have your own)

5. There are plenty of clubs in the sea (If the first club you find isn't what your after try another and another. Don't give up!)

 

Joining Wolverhampton Mountaineering Club has been one of the best things I've ever done. I've found a true passion, meet some of my best friends and also got loads of new tales to tells and skills to go with them.

 

Please feel free to comment with any other tips and experiences that you think are also helpful. The British Mountaineering Council has loads of good information and a database on clubs on their website. And if anyone wants any information on Wolverhampton Mountaineering Club please just ask and you shall receive, I will also post their website link below.

 

Most of all just get out there, out of your comfort zone and get some badass stories and adventures to talk about!

 

http://wolverhamptonmountaineeringclub.co.uk/

Also available to contact via Facebook.

FindAnApprenticeship.com

My first series of my posts will focus on some the places I climbed last year and the development of skills to climb outdoors independently. I've climbed with a lot of experienced and highly skilled climbers, all general showing a pattern of development as they climbed harder, higher and bigger routes across the world. But the guy who really summed it up for me on how to become a competent and better climber and one of the one's who I look up to the most is DW2 who I meet at Wolverhampton Mountaineering Club. DW2 has done everything, and has got no end of stories and pretty much every tshirt going. He told me that every climber must complete their apptenticeship! And now I've started  learning more and climbing harder, that has made complete scene. Too many people in climbing as in life rush and  miss steps along the way whether these are skills, classic easier routes and experience that can increase your enjoyment. Also as in life you are given a blank book to fill with all this experience and stories and one day these could save your life on the hills! 

Where it began 

I first started climbing along with one of my best friends Chris at a local indoor wall in Wolverhampton, mainly bouldering due to Chris's fear of heights. However, I continued to search for people to climb with at the wall, hoping they could also teach me how to lead climb on what at the beginning felt like a fearsome overhanging indoor wall. But no avail! But I didn't give up hope.  



 Chris powering up a boulder problem

Bottom Roping over hang at Wolf Mountain





Stepping outside: Wolf Mountain outdoor day

(August 2013)

I was at the indoor wall one day and noticed that the centre was running an outdoor climbing trip to Trevor Quarry in Llangollen. This seemed like the ideal place to start to try my hand at outdoor climbing and hopefully meet some potential climbing partners along the way. The day was a fantastic adventure to an area of steep grey limestone walls in the beautiful Welsh countryside. I stood watching the climbing instructor leading up several routes and then had to opportunity to follow him up myself. This was what I have been looking for and knew it the moment I started moving up these steep, block cut walls. On the course that day I meet Dan and Vicky, and both a source of inspiration it turned out. Dan has now become a close friend and my main climbing partner and Vicky inspired me with her stories of her adventures up Kilimanjaro and her desire to become a Mountain Leader. I may have found success in the end!

 

The day continued with a group abseil down a steep face to the side of the climbing and me really upsetting the climbing instructor Jim as I dropped one of his brand new quick draws onto some rocky ground. And as we returned back to the minibus after a hard day on the hill we were given a superb views in the sun and a rainbow reaching across the sky.





 

The Outcome

Courses like these are a fantastic way to get a taste for the skills that you need to climb outdoors and make a decision if you want to continue your journey. But I feel the most important outcome of days like this are the contacts you meet along the way and Dan has been one of those. We did climb together a few times after the outdoor day, but we meet again at Wolverhampton Mountaineering Club my next step to learning the ropes (mine the pun). I would recommend anyone who wants to start climbing outdoors to try a course like this at your local wall or activity centre as like me, you never know where it may take you.

 

Please feel free to add any other comments that I may have missed and ask some questions about my experiences and if I can help you I will. The next article will cover my journey for a club and the difficulty that can be.

Who is average Joe?

I'm a 22 year old climber, mountaineer, traveller and general adventure seeker that found the outdoors last year when I started going to a local mountaineering club and meeting a bunch of people that had the same passion to explore and live an adventurous and challenge filled lifestyle. I have worked mainly in retail for the past few years and now work for Network Rail at Birmingham New Street Station dealing with general public and lots of large dangerous moving vehicles a precarious combination.

 

What am I searching for? 

I'm a person who doesn't know what life has planned for him, I only know what I don't want and that's normality! This is my blog about fighting falling into a comfortable and boring existence that my mind rebels against on a daily basis. My posts will cover my journeys, experiences and adventures that I set out on whenever possible to break my feelings of entrapment when as I'm not really any good at anything (being average) and not knowing my calling in life that satisfies my urges for meeting new people, seeing new sights, learning and keeping me on the edge of my seat. I have no great strength, skill or ambition for great wealth only not to end up staring at the same town, pub and piece of sky everyday. If that is what makes you happy I wish that I could feel the same and it would make my life so much easier. My writing probably won't be perfect, my spelling will not always be correct and grammar not to the standard of a New York Times columnist. It will just describe my adventures, feelings, stories and people I've met along the way in my goal to find myself and not just be an average Joe!

 

My imagination knows no bounds, however my bank balance and time unfortunately do...for now!  

 

I hope my writing will inspire you to step out of your comfort zone, try something new or see some new sights. If all else fails I hope you can at least laugh at my cock ups, mistakes and general fooling around with people I've met and meet along the way. I've not done much writing since leaving Sixth Form, so any feedback about my posts and any other suggestions on the content, places to visit or anything else is more than welcome.

Me (Rocking the Red Jumpsuit!)