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post card from crimea, part 2 17-May-2010 At 6:17:44 AM freesolo

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Complete madness at the Central Train station as the other 50% of the population of Kiev fled town. Had a 4 berther with an older couple, the woman I believe was an English teacher, but I avoided the hour long "Where are you from......." conversation by moodily staring at the walls. The fourth was a hot uni girl who ignored the three of us by reading an astrology book.

No ventilation in the compartment, so got up every hour to check the sole window in the passageway was still open and our cabin door was cracked. The uni girl slept in leather pants and long sleeve shirt while I was only in my boxers. More than just a cultural difference.

Arrived an hour late, latched onto a single girl at the Simferopol station who asked the minibus driver for "Krasny Kamen" (red stone) where I was meeting a group of climbers form the gym. She was PhD in BioChemistry but, having been to Red Stone last year, couldn't remember where it was? She was suffering from the insecure disease 90% of climbers are afflicted with. The 3rd question she asked me was what grade I onsighted. Day was, climbing was about getting into the mountains away from punters and having a great time by suffering bloody knuckles and bland noodle soups. Now it's a tick mark on a resume. I assumed she was a good climber cause she was skinny and fit, but like most Ukrainians, it's all about group training with a 'master level' climber who barks at you whilst on the rock, cause God forbid, a climber should just enjoy the journey up the rock, falling, swearing, and occasionally trouncing their own limitations.

Full kit uphill march from the bus stop and found the group from the gym had pitched tents in the worst place at the crag. Windy, hot, slopey ground. Started a brouhaha by packing up one of the tents and moving it into the forest next to a mountain stream and stringing up my hammock. No way was I spending my climbing holiday in a tent village with loud, frequently drunk climbers. Glossed over the issue and climbed with the group for the afternoon. Limestone with new glue in's but spaced too close together. Second arguement of the day ensued when I starting skipping bolts.

Beautifully quiet night in my tent. The first in so many months. Got up late, re-climbed a couple routes, got to know a few other people in the group.

'Red-sighted' a 6b+. Since I watched someone climb a nice dihedral, thinking, that looks brilliant, and then climbed it commerical-free, I've decided to label it a 'red-sight'. 'On-pinking' is when you walk up to a route that already has draws on it, but you haven't seen any of the moves, and climb it commercial free. 'White-pointing' is when you climb commercial-free, some route you know is well within your abilities, and you do just because it's fun, and not because your resume needs padding, and possibly to see if the hottie in the prana bra is a potential shag. 'Fck-falling' is when you climb something really hard, knowing in advance there is no way you can do it without multiple 'fcks' and numerous 'falls'.

First rest day went with the group about 100 k away to do a zipline. About 500 m of static cord, strung across a shallow valley over a small lake. While waiting my go, examined the rigging. Nice new bolts in the rock, multiple legs of the anchor, but everything, all tension, weight, force, etc... was depending on one, over the counter, locking biner!!! Watched 6 people go and figured the biner wouldn't shear from my 160 lbs, so got on. First 100 m was fun because the ground falls away, and the abrupt stop at the other end was interesting, but the middle bit was ho-hum. Ditched the group at the motorway junction and went to see my friends down the road (see postcard from Crimea part 1)

Got up on Wednesday to find the group had gone down the coast to another crag for the day, got some garbled directions from another climber and bus'sed over. Warmed up and then stared at two beautiful cracks, both overhanging, one with bolts. Watched a couple guys climb it while belaying and decided, why not. I figured I only had 7 days holiday, might at well climb to exhaustion. Tried to hook up with two girls who were looking at the same crack, but they spoke no English. Watched them struggle to get to the third bolt. One of their boyfriends came over and belayed me on lead. (6c) Really nice jams and laybacking, but wickedly overhung the whole way with some wildly awkward last couple moves. Hung a lot but got to the top (see previous verbiage about 'fck-falling') For the trig nerds out there, the touchdown point when lowered was 6-7meters from the base of the climb which was 25 meters high. My guess was 8-10 degrees of overhang. Warmed down by climbing some 6a's and b's. Went back the next day and top-roped the 6c, two hangs on first go, one fall on second. Wrecked my arms. snoozed in my hammock for 2 hours before doing a shop.

I walked past the nutella twice before remembering that nutella truly is the only solution to the stale bread in the bottom of the food bag. As you know, their are several problems with nutella. First the quality control. It is necessary that immediately after purchase to spoon or finger the first 1-1.5 centimeters to ensure you have purchased brand name nutella, regardless of the label on the jar. So many chinese fakes on the market these days. Second problem of course is the rapid onset of nutella farts, which only becomes an issue if you are sharing a tent, which I thankfully was not, but can make some self-conscious when strolling around camp. The third issue is of course refusing to buy the oddly shaped jars, and getting the 180gram size, because it is an evil marketing ploy to get you to purchase more because you just can't get the last bits out of the fcking corners of the jar. Which puts me off nutella until the next climbing trip. I have learned from previous trips that nutella and cappicianos for breakfast make for an unpleasant bowel day at the crag.

Friday, rest day, and I unintentionally mongered iron all day in the sun. Went to my mates house, thinking I would have some tea, swap stories about India, lie in my hammock, browse the climbing shop and maybe jump in the Black Sea. No. Rocked up and my mate wanted help building the steel frame of his new garage/grape arbor. So spent the day, grinding, cutting, spot-welding. as a rest day it was exhausting, but any other time, it would have been fine. Stayed at their place for the night and drank loads of fresh Masala chai. Two hot showers!! Thus drastically increasing my shower-to-route ratio for the week.

Last two days, just climbed as hard as I could. till my arms were absolutely thrashed. Last climb was a 40 meter 7a top rope epic. Overhanging laybacking to nubbin climbing. Rained Sunday night, which led to every climbers favorite chore of packing up early when everything is wet. The trip back to Kiev can be described in one word. excruciating. That's right. EXCRUCIATING. Spent two days in the back of an open truck crossing northern Kenya once, which was less-hellish than the night train to Kiev. By the time I got on the bus from the center of Kiev to my flat, I was screaming English obscenities to anyone who got in my way. Trudged the last bit in a downpour, took a shower, passed out for 3 hours, then went to work. Every one of my classes got a 60 minute grammar exam. That will teach the ^@#*& Ukranian National Train Company!

So, I climbed, slept next to a mountain stream, cooked curries and omelets on my campstove, got fit, lost weigt, got tan, didn't get hurt, didn't get laid, didn't quit my job. I rate the trip a solid 6 out of 10.