Rants of a Carny

The above picture was taken in the bouldering cave at the house I am staying at in France. We just arrived back to the promised land of warm weather, cheap wine, and a language I can speak. We drove nine hours back from northern Italy today through this…

Needless to say, despite the great coffee, I am glad to be back in the land of great climbing and happiness. The next two days will see us climbing on rock in the sun as opposed to ice in the cold. I couldn’t be happier *grin*.

It will be a good change from this fun in the snow… to be having more fun in this cave.

A perfectly pulled thimble full of Italian espresso makes any morning all the better. Somewhere in the German speaking part of northern Italy, fifteen hours of driving madness from the wine cellar in France and the twenty degree weather. Mind you that isn’t fifteen hours direct, if you travel at the break neck speeds of most italians (this speed is in no way effected by crazy switch backs which were likely born out of the mind of a speed munching chimp -insert mental image of Gord looking ill as we Mario kart around corners with a stunning mountain valley inches away over the abyss-) you could probably get here in nine. We sadly missed our turn twice, then after the go kart death race through the mountains discovered that we had gone to the wrong Italian town of Cavora and needed to turn back, an hour of retracing our steps before the fun of being lost in northern Italy at night.
Finally, with the aid of an English speaking Italian German in a pub we found our way through the maze of back streets to our destination. It was superb to make it here and be greeted with friendly faces of our most definitely German hosts, not to mention the fact that their kitchens were still open.
However here we are, Rabenstein, a comp which will likely be part of the world cup next year. However this year it is just for the fun of it, the comp experience, and the learning. So today that will be the plan, another comp, and then sometime in the next two days hurtle our way back down through the mountains to the sun in France.

So we have again hit the road, heading south to France, escaping the cold and snow of Switzerland (mind you that means going from -1 to 12 degrees, not exactly that cold in Switzerland). Now we made the trip south for two reasons, the first is simply that France is about as close to perfect as you can get. The second is so that we could go get our asses kicked by some of the strongest dry tool climbers in the world. Enter Uzine; perhaps the premiere dry tooling crag in the world. This massive cave is a two minute walk off the road, and commands a host of what may be the hardest routes in the world. While north Americans may scoff at drilled and painted holds the m10 climbs here would stand to challenge our 12s at home. This is the land of strong climbers who refuse to make use of movements such as figure 4s as they make the climbing too easy. This is a land of fun and powerful climbing, something that could become quite addictive when compared to the terrifying small chossy holds we find in the bow valley.
Only a short day of climbing in and already more has been learned in terms of the tricks to this trade. Today we are returning to put into play these methods to see how they play out. It seems every day on this trip I find how much more there is in terms of tricks to the trade that I had never thought to apply to the sport. A learning experience daily.

Also on a completely different front it is a pleasant change to no longer need to be making use of eight odd languages, but rather being able to focus on just one. The comment over breakfast was that my French had rapidly improved from even the night before… my only response was that it was nice to have a break from trying to play catch up in four entirely different tongues.

Anyways, I am writing this from the head office of Petzl, a casual stop on our way back to Uzine. We shall see what the day offers up, and what learning shall occur today.

Not a bad overall standing today actually despite an early fall. The problem came from a misplaced foot, the thought was to just flag the leg out for balance… however the judge called it as an error and so my standing dropped to the bottom. An error I won’t repeat *grin*. However on the whole there was a great deal learned today in terms of body positioning, and a great time had doing speed in the evening. A good day for sure. Think I have the tools now to be ready for France. Two weeks of training now, and then the we kick this show into high gear and the fun begins.

Oh and for your viewing pleasure… a robot snow plow.

Three hours until the comps start for the day. I’m sitting over the remains of my breakfast looking out over the snowy village of Saas Fee Switzerland. Nestled in the Alps, a tiny ski village whose spiraling parking garage is where the women are currently doing qualifiers for lead. A couple continents away from where we were four days ago in South Korea.
Last night was the athlete supper, this strange reunion of people giving hugs and saying hi despite the fact it has only been a few days since we all saw each other. It is as if our brains can’t catch up with the distance we have travelled, and so we rush to celebrate a reunion of distance, if not so much of time.
I found my brain screaming again yesterday as I threw it from French, to Russian, a jump into Czech, before I slammed myself into an attempt at German. Words and phrases that dance at the edge of grasp, taunting me with the futile attempts I am making at being able to speak with everyone. If this circuit happens again next year I am coming better prepared with my languages. This is a mad family as it is, I feel myself floundering without my words, and it is hard to keep pace with so many languages to catch up on.
So today is round two. I watch the birds whirl in the air above the village and catch myself wondering if the small gasp of air has been enough to prepare myself. After this weekend I will get a chance to climb again on the structure during take down. From there it will be more climbing in France, a host of time on the french structure… and eleven days to find my feet before the next worlds comp. That is when I am hoping to have finished my rush up the curve. The birds spin and dance in the sky, a silent ballet danced only for the snow… However I refuse to walk in without a fight in me, we shall see what comes of this.

So today was the first day of mixed climbing in France. We headed up to the zoo, a steep overhanging limestone wall which has been fitted out with a host of phenomenal mixed climbs. The problem of course being that while the climbs are awesome, and the crag is close to the road, and the drive is short, and the view is awesome… that this isn’t in Canmore. Even if I had a location this good at home to think about bolting, the entire climbing community would murder Gord and I for ruining a ‘sport climbing’ area. Yet if we want this sport to grow, and for north American youth to embrace it… we need spots with climbs like the ones we were on today. The climbing was super fun, heck, the holds were even painted. However, the moves were massive, the dance up the wall engaging. This is what is needed if we really want north America to be in the world cup.

So originally this was to be a post about beards. Gord and I are currently a week into the ‘don’t shave during worlds’ project. The pic below gives an idea of where we were by about day three, and quite frankly we are both looking far more like mountain men at this juncture. I am of course starting to go crazy, and am deeply craving a face not covered in hair. Needs to go… but I am still holding out.

This is how excited Gord and I are about getting onto another time machine. Only twenty hours in transit until we get to Switzerland. Should be all kinds of fun. If this ten hour flight into Dubai doesn’t destroy my soul I will write some more of the internal rants about worlds… And of course about how annoying Gord is when trapped in a time machine *grin*.