Pennine Lines w/c 24 March 2025
|| Much warmer || The cusp of limestone season ||
Undercuts To Sloper, Raven Tor || Climber: Ben Moon
|| Focus On... ||
The Peak Limestone Survival Guide
Part 1 - Psychology
OK folks, there’s no getting around the fact that the temps are up, it’s the end of March, so that can mean only one thing….Peak limestone season is upon us, whether you like it or not.
Peak limestone, the bouldering in particular, is something of a divisive genre. It chews up and spits out a lot of people. Some folk just avoid it on principle, and it’s notoriously uncharitable for the tourist. Don’t really think you can see yourself on Peak limestone? Well, you can definitely see yourself in the footholds, such is the glossy sheen they display. Hence it’s not an easy genre to get into…. there IS a recipe for success, but like most good recipes it take some forethought. You can’t just wade in without doing all the prep work. With this in mind I thought it would be useful to share a few thoughts on strategies to “live your best life” on Peak limestone (can't believe I just typed that phrase).
Before we get onto tangible practical tips - venues, conditions etc - it's important to lay the right foundations, lest all subsequent work in this area crumbles once you experience your first wobble. This is why establishing the right attitude and nailing the psychology is crucial, as it underpins everything else.
At a surface level, part of the key to enjoying Peak limestone bouldering is what I think of as Expectation Management On Steroids. Basically; know what you’re signing up for...and then some. Why do you think old school local diehards keep coming back to Peak limestone decade after decade? It’s because we know what to expect, and we’re ok with that. We know it’s not Castle Hill or Cuvier Rempart out there.
Levi Roofs, Dovedale || Climber: Shauna Coxsey
Of course some of you already know what to expect, and still don’t get on with it. The Pavlovian response mechanism in you, conditioned from previous seasons ill-prepared for Peak limestone, lead you to think the holds are grim and uncomfortable, the crags all dusty humid glue-covered grief-holes with slugs taking up residence in every low-lying slot and pocket. The good news here is the conditioning can be broken. This dislike of Peak limestone, like all weaknesses, can be trained to turn it into a strength. This is where the psychology comes in, because you need to understand your aesthetic benchmarks and enjoyability-mean-sea-level are out of whack due to years of, say, ‘enjoying’ expertly set indoor climbing on smooth uniform holds, or simply by swanning off to tufa-drenched Mediterranean sport climbing utopias every winter. It takes time, but you can reconfigure yourself.
When you grab a hold on Peak limestone, you are not simply grasping an evenly flat - dare I say boring - hold, the like of which you have on your board at home. Peak limestone holds are not churned out in a matter of hours by woodworkers who have only spent, say, a mere few years refining their craft. The Peak limestone crag has taken its time, literally thousand and thousands of years, to assemble a crimp composed of a hundred or more self-similar crimps and little spikes, a fractal art-in-nature wonder to leave a permanent impression on bruised fingertip pulp. Not many rock types treat you to this many crimps-per-inch, and you should be duly grateful.
That painful sensation in your fingertips you get when hitting a Peak limestone crimp in extremis? That is merely a mainstream aesthetic leaving the body. You are beyond the simple surface-level appreciation now. You have moved on from the Mars bar & McDonalds fast-fun diet of indoor climbing, and you have now jumped straight to the jar of pungent fermented Kimchi that your mate who spent five years perfecting a semi-acceptable sourdough gave you, which is now fixing you with a glare from the back of the fridge every time you reach in and take the easy option and grab something more palatable. You might not like it NOW, but it IS better, you tell yourself as you knock back a thick slice of sourdough whose wide-gauge structure renders it unsuitable for sandwich making, knocked back with a pint of kombucha. Yes, Peak limestone is the fermented foodstuffs of climbing.
Rob Smith taking in the limestone air || The Wave
This level of suffering elevates a person to transcend the superficial and discover a higher pain, sorry, plane, of rock climbing consciousness. It is not glamorous, it does not look good, it does not make for fast likes and quick content. It is not made for the modern short-attention online economy. Let’s face facts; any idiot can enjoy holiday grades on shapely golden-yellow-orange boulders in some far-flung low-humidity paradise under a photogenic cobalt-blue sky. Any numpty can fly to Rocklands this summer, enjoy climbing and have a great time. Always fancied getting some nice shots for the instagram feed at the Buttermilks this spring? Good riddance I say, close the door on your way out.
The true players, the lifers, are grinding out marginal gains on the sika-covered tendon-injury wonderland of readily condensing limestone three grades below their theoretical Ticino grade ceiling this summer. Leave your ego at home. It’s a marathon not a sprint. This is where true steel is forged, and we’re playing the long game. If you can embrace all that, with the dizzying highs and the soul-destroying lows that go with it, then you’re ready to take the next step. Congratulations; for you have a future in Peak limestone bouldering.
To be continued….
Tsunami, Rubicon || Climber: Finn Prowse-Hall
|| Recently Through The Lens ||
Squeezing the last dregs out of the brown sauce bottle that is the winter gritstone season in Yorkshire and the Peak; at Cratcliffe, Crookrise and Brimham.
|| Fresh Prints ||
Getting into that spring and/or limestone vibe this week in the Print Shop.
