Mental Challenges
Route: Classic Hits and Memories - 3+, III (which is a Darrans winter grade)
Location: MacPherson Cirque, the Darrans
Fun Factor: Intense cerebral mind f#ck for the first pitch, 5 out of 5 for the second pitch
Photo: Pete Amos
This was an amazing experience - we were buzzing wildly afterwards.
My reward for working out a sequence past the first 5 metres of protectionless off-width, was being in an un-retreatable position with no gear to lower myself down to safety.
Pitons and stubbie ice screws dangled uselessly at my harness as I got acquainted with the small blobs of frozen turf and edges of the slab, hidden somewhere under the dusting of snow. Having come to the realisation that the clarity and focus climbers experience in difficult situations wasn't going to happen, and the voices in my head were not going to shut up, I decided to take things one move at a time towards the thin ice out right.
Pete provided just the right amount of belayer encouragement - I guess he realised the seriousness of my predicament.
Around 12 metres off the deck, I pulled away a few loose pieces of rock from a protrusion from the slab, hoping to find a crack solid enough for a knifeblade. It went in, but way to easily, and it was still a few more body lengths to the ice. Bugger. I clipped it with a screamer and just kept on moving right, managing to find a better blade placement on the way.
Once on the ice, I felt great relief. It was thin, steep and offered only one stubbie screw and an ice thread for the rest of the pitch, but my tool placements were bomber. The voices in my head quietened. It was all smiles from there.

Location: MacPherson Cirque, the Darrans
Fun Factor: Intense cerebral mind f#ck for the first pitch, 5 out of 5 for the second pitch
Photo: Pete Amos
This was an amazing experience - we were buzzing wildly afterwards.
My reward for working out a sequence past the first 5 metres of protectionless off-width, was being in an un-retreatable position with no gear to lower myself down to safety.
Pitons and stubbie ice screws dangled uselessly at my harness as I got acquainted with the small blobs of frozen turf and edges of the slab, hidden somewhere under the dusting of snow. Having come to the realisation that the clarity and focus climbers experience in difficult situations wasn't going to happen, and the voices in my head were not going to shut up, I decided to take things one move at a time towards the thin ice out right.
Pete provided just the right amount of belayer encouragement - I guess he realised the seriousness of my predicament.
Around 12 metres off the deck, I pulled away a few loose pieces of rock from a protrusion from the slab, hoping to find a crack solid enough for a knifeblade. It went in, but way to easily, and it was still a few more body lengths to the ice. Bugger. I clipped it with a screamer and just kept on moving right, managing to find a better blade placement on the way.
Once on the ice, I felt great relief. It was thin, steep and offered only one stubbie screw and an ice thread for the rest of the pitch, but my tool placements were bomber. The voices in my head quietened. It was all smiles from there.
Labels: Climbing

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