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Chimney Pots Epic 19-Sep-2006 At 12:23:20 PM bluey

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I have an idea. It may be controversial in the climbing world. But, I'd like to suggest that the Chimney Pots (southern Gramps) be renamed the Chamber Pots - because that seems to be a more accurate description for an awesome climbing location that has cracks that look like someone has tipped a chamber pot-load of sewage down them. Had myself the joy of heading up Brave New World (17) on the insistence of my partner who thought an all-day adventure would be a tonne of fun. And it was....kind of.

Having undertaken the chossy initial pitches and the fun and squirmy traverse on the catwalk, we prepared for Brave New World on the face. My partner tootled up and at various points displayed a few nerves and I was about to find out why. The rock was finally moss and lichen-free but was coated in a thin layer of rust coloured dirt. Keeping a grip on the holds was like trying to stay upright in rollerskates on marbles. The climbing was great fun, but constantly undermined by the grot on the rock. We found ourselves happier and less anxious on the hanging belay than doing the actual climbing!

Made it to the main ledge and lunched overlooking a spectacular view bathed in glorious Spring sunshine. Warmed, sated and full of chocolate, we headed for the twin cracks. However, given the state of Brave New World, the guidebook's description of the twin cracks as 'yuk!' did not warm the heart.

We inspected the two cracks and selected what seemed to be the less chamber pot-esque of the two. But we still ended up sliding over oozing green sludge, clearing clumps of moss, losing footing on damp rock and, in my case, swearing loudly. Bridging was undertaken as both a climbing and a goo-avoidance technique. I clambered over the top and sent my grinning partner a death glare. 'Adventure, eh?' he said. I suggested in no uncertain terms that we may like to take the early descent route and skip the grade 8 final pitch. I'd had enough. It was heading for dusk, I was covered in some undescribable gunk and my fatigued limbs weren't screaming eagerness for more climbing.

So as my summit-bagging partner scrambled for the top, I headed downwards, back to the rucksacks, plonked my grumpy butt down and thought "I'm sure that will seem great in time". And two days later, it does. Would recommend this sludgy, grotty jaunt to anyone.