Dalkey from the Top
At the start of the month, I took a look at the Dalkey classic “Crime in the City,” a test piece from the late ’80s. I had tried the route many years ago and managed to get through the hard climbing, only to have a hold crumble and send me whipping down almost the full length of the route. Síle, who was belaying me at the time, shot off the ground only to settle in the brambles and nettles that surrounded the base of the climb (still holding the brake thankfully). We wound up dangling on opposite ends of the rope, a bit shocked, and Síle a bit stung, but no real harm was done. I probably should have gone straight back at it at the time, but didn’t. In fact, a combination of work, fitness, and general life stuff meant I wasn’t doing enough climbing to really consider climbing the route for quite some time. This year, I’ve been feeling good though, so another effort seemed like a good idea.
The route is smack in the middle of a blank-looking wall between Thrust and Giant’s Staircase. The line is only made obvious by the pegs that protect the two crux sections, but it does offer some excellent and bold climbing throughout its length. For me, the route is far too hard to consider a ground-up approach on the ageing pegs. Instead I threw a line down it and began piecing together the climb.
A top rope will soften a route, changing a impossible act to a polished performance. But it can also be a useful way to keep physically strong for climbing. Somewhere like Dalkey it is difficult to find enough hard climbing that doesn’t come with a high cost if trying routes from the ground up. You can keep strength up at the wall but the climbing just isn’t the same as real rock and who wants to spend there summers indoors anyway. Having a project to go and try keeps you motivated and as you don’t need perfect conditions you can get more time on rock. It only trains the physical side though, so you still need to be finding routes you haven’t done and try them ground up to keep the rest of your climbing tricks in order.
The Burren from Beneath
The second weekend in July, we headed for the Burren, Ailladie, Ireland’s premier sea-cliff climbing venue for those looking to prove their mettle. I decided mine was a soft alloy many years ago, but the climbing is still good. The day started damp, but that didn’t stop David, Elaine, Rob and Ronan from getting the ball rolling with a few routes on the Dancing Ledges and Aran wall. Andy and Shivam also joined the fun soon after.
As the day went on, the crag dried, and Síle and I ticked a few classics on Aran wall. In the evening, I noticed the cave at the start of “Lucy” was dry. I’d done the route before (many years ago) but from an alternate start that avoided the often damp cave entirely via a tricky boulder move out its left side. The real line follows a burly looking crack from the back of the cave though. It’s clearly something you want fresh, strong, arms for but we decided to go for it with our tired and puny ones anyway. Pulling on, I was immediately pumped. I struggled to get a wire in to keep me off of the boulders below and somehow groveled my way up onto the ledges above. I hung out there for a bit to let the pump and thoughts of landing on my back on the boulders subside. My mind settled, but my arms were fatigued. I continued up to the headwall and started to grapple with the crux, but soon slumped onto the rope, disappointed and feeling a bit stupid for trying it at the end of the day. It’s easy to be hard on yourself when you fail on a route, but as a friend once told me failures are part of the game the important thing is to get on things and try.
On Sunday Jon and Vanessa joined the crew. Well actually they replaced the Saturday crew, something about a match of some sort. Vanessa and Síle paired up to do some climbing, leaving Jon stuck with me. We all climbed a few routes in the stone wall area, and afterwards Jon got to grips with a lead of “Lisdoonfarout” on the Dancing Ledges.
More Dalkey Dangling
Practice makes perfect, midweek I got back on my Dalkey project. The route is useful in the poor unsettled weather; it dries quickly and is hard enough to provide a decent workout. It’s unseasonably cool too, which keeps the humidity down and helps with friction. By the end of the session, I had both cruxes figured out and linked the entire route in one go. Lowering down, my elation gave way to apprehension as I realised I would have to lead it soon. Thoughts of holds breaking and plummeting down the wall again crept into the back of my mind. I didn’t have to worry that night though; it was too late.
The Burren Top to Bottom
The forecast for the weekend was poor, but Saturday looked good in the west. We drove back to the Burren in the morning. Síle had her own project she wanted to work on, so we spent a couple of hours as she figured out the moves, and I enjoyed the view belaying from the top. When she was done, she asked if I wanted to try. Nope! We were going back to Lucy. I briefly tried to warm up on the boulders below the route, but impatience got the better of me, and I just jumped on it. I got up to the crux quickly (it was still familiar from the week before) and realized my head must have been as tired as my arms during the previous visit, as I had the beta all wrong. I pulled through the crux and continued up to the top, arms shouting at me to stop all the way.
Dalkey Bottoms Up
The weather had taken a turn for the worse; instead of last week’s blustery cool weather, it was now mild and humid. Colleagues at work were saying it was great to get some summer weather at last. I silently disagreed, knowing it would make everything feel a notch harder in the quarry. In the evening, I went back to Dalkey and used a top rope to warm up on my project. I managed the moves, but it felt nails and nowhere near as smooth as the previous week. Síle had a go and also complained about conditions (the climbers’ second favourite pastime). A group of people arrived to climb Thrust. I felt self-conscious and didn’t want to try the route with on-lookers. I told myself it all felt wrong but then tried anyway.
I got stood on a small ledge by the first peg. Having nearly fluffed the move to get there, I could feel the adrenaline in my bloodstream. An unwelcome nervous reaction that made me feel awkward and unsettled as I climbed to another stance below the next crux. The moves past the next set of pegs were insecure, and I was jittery from the adrenaline. It was a poor mix, and I was done. Lowering from the pegs, I didn’t feel the disappointment I had on Lucy; rather, I was glad I tried. The ghosts in my head from my previous experience were gone. I’d failed, but nothing bad had happened, and I knew I would be able to do it.
Feck it All let’s go to Fair Head
The weather looked good for July’s last weekend, and Fair Head was calling. We drove up Saturday morning, had to detour around Armoy due to the road races (somehow I always managed to get caught out by this bloody thing), and arrived just in time for the rain. We hung out in the van till it passed and then ran into Farangdoo. It dried quickly, and Síle wanted to try Crib Pad Crack Direct. She upped and downed a bit on the crux, taking a few falls and then conceded defeat. Handing the rope to me, she suggested I lead it. I had climbed it a few weeks previous, so it might have gone okay, but then I had climbed Lucy before too. Not wanting to have to come back for another clean ascent, I avoided the trap altogether and opted for the softer indirect version to get us back to the top.
Back at the campsite, we met some other IMC’ers who had arrived before us and managed to get halfway up the main cliff before the rain hit. They had to bail and make the long walk out from An Bealach Rúnda in rock shoes, proving once again that while the early bird might get the worm, the second mouse gets the cheese.
The next day, the early birds were back at An Bealach Rúnda to retrieve a rope and finish off the route. Síle and I, lifelong second mice, arrived just in time to use the ab rope before they pulled it up and headed for the next route. Abseiling into routes at Fair Head is an experience in itself; the cliff is jaw-droppingly magnificent, perhaps only experienced fully by climbers who have found secluded and obscure perches in almost every part of it. Our chosen perch for the day was “The X-Men”; neither of us had been on it before. There is probably no better climbing experience than trying to on-sight a route that is hard for you. The climbing never has the polish of a practiced ascent but instead takes you on a journey through all the tricks and tools you’ve picked up as a climber. You have to manage gear placements, rope-work and the inevitable pump, all while trying to find the best method to get up the route. This time, the climb went well, and we arrived at the top thoroughly thrashed and satisfied. We stayed on for Monday, where an off-width on the Prow caught me out, so I ticked off Midnight Cruiser to let my ego recover. The rain sent us packing early.
A Summery Summary
The summer so far has been good weather for ducks, but the IMC has managed to keep its head above water. Aside from the few trips mentioned here, Pierse organised weekends at Glendo and Inis Mor. Gerry and Cathy were new routing at Sheeps Head. Gerry and Síle were at Rocky Valley. There were also climbers at Garron Point and Annalong Crags fine Mourne’s granite. And that is just all I’m aware of that happened on this island!
