Pennine Lines w/c 8 april 2024
|| Wet & windy || Had enough of this now ||
Sweet Chariot || Climber: Rob Smith
|| Focus On... ||
Heels
Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. So with gale force winds forecasted across the Peak, where do you go climbing? At the windiest crag, that’s where. Fight wind with wind.
Filthy Crag Q is one of those places where it’s always blowing a gale even when nowhere else is. Only the summits of the granite spires in Chilean Patagonia rival it for windiness. Since the crag already has the wind knob turned up to eleven there’s nowhere else to go, to get that last push over the edge. So as it turns out it’s great for a windy day because it’s just business as usual there. You know what you’re signing up for.
As I’m three months in on a minor right knee meniscus tear (mainly fine, thanks for asking) it was however somewhat unfortunate to find myself at a crag where literally every problem revolves heavily around heel-hooking on the leg I’ve just spent 12 weeks trying to avoid using. At Filthy Crag Q you could probably manage fine if you’ve left your left rock shoe at home, as long as you’ve got a good right heel-hooking shoe with you, and the leg strength to use it. I had the former but not the latter, but it was good training at least, use it or lose it etc.
New methods on old problems || Almscliff
Heel-hooking is in many ways the real signifier for what you could think of as ‘modern’ bouldering. So much so if you’ve ‘only’ been climbing, say, 20 years or less, you might not realise what a fundamental shift this was, because heel-hooking is now so embedded in bouldering that you’re as likely to buy your next pair of shoes based on how they feel at the back of the shoe as they do at the front. But it wasn’t always like this.
For a window into this go and watch The Real Thing again. Released in 1996, there’s scarcely a heel hook to be seen in the entire film. Jerry doesn’t even use one on L'Abbé Résina. It’s not until we get to the climax of the film, Karma, that Ben has to resort to putting his heel on. It feels very old-school as a result. Then go and watch Rampage, released in 1999 only a few years later. Aside from the VHS-quality footage it could have been released yesterday - it’s all steep full-bodied recognisably modern bouldering; heels galore, exiting roofs feet first, dynos, living in a van, the lot. So what changed?
Well, aside from everyone binning off pastel-shades cotton Lycra and tech-trance in favour of baggy skate pants and hiphop, skip to 43 minutes into The Real Thing and you’ll see something unusual in shot - a large square of foam covered in Cordura - under Marc Le Menestrel “really at my limit there” on Surplomb de la Mée. You will then note that these squares of foam are under every problem on Rampage, and essentially enable that whole modern gymnastic steep physical style, including gratuitous heel-hooking.
Heels at Rowtor || Climber: Ben Bransby
In the same way that every generation thinks they invented dynos (we didn’t, we just invented not being crippled by repeatedly falling off them) the bouldering mat generation thinks we invented heel-hooking. There is often an assumption that the boulderers of the 1980s and 90s were technical dunces and lacked the curiosity to try using the back of their feet. But what’s this, a problem from the late 90s that’s actually much easier with a high heel up there? How could those idiots of yesteryear have missed this? But the reality is heavy-duty heel-hooking, especially full weight bearing above-the-head stuff, is just monumentally unappealing if bouldering mats haven’t been invented yet. Because unless you’re on decent handholds you’re going to land on your head, and there’s only so much a very close Bleausard-style spot will do.
Now of course pads are the norm and guidebooks/grades have caught up, so heel-hooks don’t really make headlines these days; even Will Bosi’s live-streamed dalliance with a heel on Burden Of Dreams barely made a ripple. Limited heel-hook skirmishes are still being fought by hardliners on certain problems of course, typically ones that straddled the eras. It’s given rise to phenomena of “crap classics”, like The Green Traverse at Stanage for example. Basically there’s a few old problems out there who’s status - and often grade - is derived from the way they were always climbed in the pre-heel pre-pads days, but aren’t actually that good or even make that much sense when done the easiest way with heels, and it makes little financial sense for any guidebook writer to deprive 1000s of Londoners of their only 7a tick. The Green Traverse, (ignoring the lowball Full Green start) is a lovely flowing set of moves where good clean footwork is essential to keep pressure on the marginal footholds all the way, but if you heel-hook it’s just a sort of awkward inelegant drape. Easiest isn’t necessarily better. Once you’ve done it the old school way you won’t go back. Hand on heart, it’s a nicer sequence without, trust me.
|| UKC Competition ||
An influencer from the Middle East back in the day once said "judge not, lest ye be judged", from which I infer that particular carpenter's son had never been asked to judge a photo competition, or he wouldn't have been glibly making that sort of unhelpful generalisation. Not to be deterred by such a dismissive aphorism, I was happy to be involved with the judging of the UKC / UKH Photography Awards 2023 recently, in judging the three overall winners. There was some high-quality work on show, not just by the overall winners, so it wasn't an easy task to narrow it down. Winners can be found here if you've not seen them yet.
|| Supported By ||
|| Recently Through the lens ||
A week on the east coast with, mostly, the worst weather since the fish crawled out of the oceans, a.k.a. not much climbing to show for it.
|| Fresh Prints ||
As it warms up try getting into the summer mood with a couple of new warm-weather Peak images from the Print Shop.
