Hiking The CDT- part 9- Yellowstone

1 May 2020 / bens game / Leave a comment

I hiked into Yellowstone at a reduced pace, knowing my shin wouldn’t be up to too much over the next days. The trail leaves Old Faithful, and heads South East away from the crowds. It isn’t hard to get away from crowds here. According to the NPS 97% of visitors never go more than one hundred yards from their car. This is a great shame but also good for people that like the wilderness in solitary. The rangers allowed my permit to go a quite a bit further each day than normal hiker permits (they treat people attempting the CDT nicely), and said if I did need to use a camp further or closer than the allocated one to just make sure it’s in an official camp area. My first camping place was 18 miles in. With a 10am start and a slow pace I figured I would get there in 9 hours with a little light to spare. I hiked passed Lonestar Geyser and into the Firehole Springs area. The scenery changed from dry pine forest to a prehistoric boiling pot almost instantly. Watching water bubbling and steam rising up from the ground as I hiked made for a fantastic spectacle. I had watched documentaries on Yellowstone as a kid and was finally here. Here at the place I thought would be the highlight of my summer, and 1000 miles in wasn’t even half way. The Firehole Springs area gave way to shallow flooded meadow. It was amazing just how fast the trail disappeared. I squelched through the area until it came back to forest. The forest gave me a lot of time and easy trail to concentrate on my injury, and how stupid I was for coming into this section without being fully healed. Mile after mile ground by until I reached my camp. It was deserted except for flies. I had half a mind to hike on to the next camp, but with an hour or two of light left I though better and pitched up. I find camping alone quite boring, especially when I’m told where to camp. The sun eventually set and I went to sleep.

The next day started with a nearly shoulder-deep wade through the exiting river from Shoshone lake, holding my pack above my head to keep the contents dry. I hiked through pleasant forest and eventually came out on the main road and crossed onto the Heart Lake trail. Here I bumped into Buck30. ‘I thought you’d blown me out the water and were long gone!’ he said. I told him of where I’d been and we hiked onto the Heart Lake Ranger station to have a further break and chat with the ranger about what life was like in the park. We also crossed a North Bound hiker that didn’t flipflop, the first we had seen. You can usually tell a thru hiker from a distance. Wearing worn out clothes, long worn out shoes full of holes, and a very small pack but turning up more than 15 miles from the nearest road. Looking near homeless but with a rather large stride. I forgot to mention I was now on my third pair of shoes. The Moab trail shoes were uncomfortable, the trainers I picked up in Helena were worn out and very holey, and now I was onto a set of Salomon 3-d chassis’ trail shoes. Anyway, back to the trail.

Hiking off from the Heart Lake shore, the trail crossed a small rise and entered into a pleasant small valley with great meadows. The trail was faint, and there were a couple of small backtracks where the trail would lead to a dead end pond or just peter out entirely. It was a fantastic area and enjoyable with no large climbs. At the end of this day I pitched up and Buck kept hiking a while longer to the next camp. I wished I had hiked on because within a few minutes in the morning, I had to wade through the next icy river that was much colder than the mouth of the lake had been. I was getting used to the unpleasant icy chill seeping inside my trainers, but that didn’t mean I wanted it at 6am. Though it does wake you up better than coffee. I was enjoying having my space but knowing there was another hiker on the trail is nice when hiking alone, it’s reassuring to know there might be help if something were to go wrong. By the end of the day we were crossing over the Yellowstone boundary and into the Teton Wilderness. I passed another NOBO (north bound) hiker who was nervous about bears. There was bear scat all over the place and it was big. I mean HUGE!. The kind of thing if you stood in, you would be better off chucking the shoes away. The trail wound down around the Snake River occasionally til one final big crossing over the Buffalo River with a strong current. There were a few gents at a camp at one point with packrafts , small inflatable boats that fit in a backpack. I knew they were about to have so much fun.

This part of the trail was also home to the Parting of the Waters. A river that splits into two, one side will end in the Gulf of Mexico, the other side in the Pacific. I sat here for lunch and once again I came across a famous hiker, this time called Lint. This was the third well reputed hiker I’d bumped into and once again I had no idea who this was, but he was excited to hear Buck30 was behind me. Lint has done the ‘triple triple crown’, the three long distance trails in the US, three times. Shortly after lunch I would come to the horse super highway, or horse way, something to do with horses. It stank and was full of horse poop. All the way. I came across several riders on horseback that were bemused to see a hiker this far out, and when telling them what I was doing and how far I was going in a day were gob smacked and took their hats off to me. That night I camped by a lake alone, pitching up at dark. In the night it misted over, and I was woke in the early hours by bells and the sound of a horse. I looked out my tent and saw a rider on horseback leading several loaded pack animals. It was spooky. I wondered how many times he had been up and down the trail in the dark of night through the mist.

I hiked out ahead for most the next day on my own while still feeling strain in my shin. I was taking it easier, still doing big miles each day but with good rest stops. With five miles to go before the next camp (a lake just off Togwotee Pass) I was admiring the view when I heard ‘BENJAMIN!’. It was Tribhu, caught up and flying like a kite. I informed him I was on a go slow but with a short distance left we split the difference between our paces and hiked on. On reaching the lake, Tim’s girlfriend Kirsten was walking up the way to meet us. We hiked at a gentle pace out the way and to the lake. I said I would wait here, I had told Buck earlier I would probably camp the night at the lake. Shortly after Tribhu and Kirsten left I discovered signs in the camping area stating no soft sided tents, bear and cubs are active in area. It threatened a large fine for breaking the rule, and not wanting that fine, I opted to hike to the road and hitch down the pass.

Seconds after I arrived at the pass, a car came by and offered a ride. It was two girls that had driven up to find mobile signal. They were camped before the next town but offered to drive the extra minutes into Dubois regardless. Pulling into the town they asked ‘Is this it?’. I responded ‘I’ve never been before, I guess it must be’. I hopped out the car and thanked them for the ride. There was a gas station, an agricultural sales place and a motel. The motel cost was a stinger, I think about $110 for the night. A nice modern room with A/C but more than this broke hiker needed. If I had been so bold as to wander around the corner, I would have found the town was far larger than I realised and there were much cheaper options. The next day I did this and kicked myself as punishment. I wandered into a shop and bought a coffee, sitting back on the seating outside and waiting. A NOBO hiker also rolled in who knew Buck30, and was excited to know he would be there soon. Hours rolled by and eventually around lunch Buck came to town unhappy the hitch took so long. The three of us walked to the hikers motel and managed a room each for $30, I wasn’t going to do a second night, but at that price I couldn’t help it. We stuffed our faces with the finest food the town had to offer. Tribhu also turned up but was leaving that day and was just there for a resupply. He mentioned the next town on trail after the Winds had a free camping area and perfect for a day or so off. I said goodbye but presumed this would be the last time our paths would cross due to his quick pace and my injury. The next morning I said I would probably see Buck a bit further down the trail and I walked to the edge of town to hitch.

I knew the sheriff of this town didn’t allow hitchhikers to catch a ride from inside the town so hiked out a good long way clear of any buildings. Minutes after I stuck my thumb out, I saw the police car come rolling around the bend to pull up in front of me. Out stepped a white haired officer. Like a scene from Rambo, he stated ‘Hitchhiking is banned in this town’. I looked back the way into the town. The main town itself was 3/4 of a mile back, so far as I could tell I was a good way out of the town. ‘Where is it OK to hitch from?’ I enquired. ‘See that sign on the other side of the road? Anywhere past that sign’ he said. I looked to the other side of the road in disbelief. About 30 feet down was the Welcome to Dubois sign. I was right out of the town and he came to move me 30 feet. He took my passport and there I waited as he stepped back into his police cruiser and seemed to radio and talk to someone. Eventually he brought it back and said ‘Don’t let me catch you hitching in this town again, have a good day’. With that he drove off. Now. The far more interesting part of this story. Skip ahead two years. I had just finished hiking the Wind River High route and spent the night in the same town again. Hitching in the other direction this time, at the other end of the town I stick my thumb out. A pickup pulls over and a white haired man offers a ride. I hop in and ask what he does around here. ‘Well, I just retired, I was the sheriff around here most my life’. I didn’t mention I had met him before, but it gave me a new insight the kind of man he was. He clearly cared about the people in his area, I don’t want to go into the details too much, but he told me a few stories about being first on the scene at several accidents and having to break it to the families. He said it made it had made for a difficult career and what he had seen, has stuck with him all his life. I was grateful for the ride.

Pico Uriellu

7 Jul 2019 / bens game / 3 Comments

So, Becoming bored of France and desiring more mountain in my life, we decided to pop on the highway and drove on. Spain just exploded into coastal mountains, sweeping highways bringing us in and out of coves and bays and ultimately beer that seems to taste better. Aiming vaguely for a national park called Picos De Europa we found it had a peak treasured by Spanish Mountaineers, Pico Uriellu or Naranjo de Bulnes (Orange of Bulnes).

Its sounds uninteresting but let me tell you more- The peak is 8,264ft from sea level, which is close by. To get to the peak you need to carry your climbing gear up through the 6,500ft of Spanish summer which lands you at the base of something special. It isn’t the biggest peak in the area, but with a 1739ft headwall it’s a head turner. There are no footpaths up this one.

I should say at the beach below we met a nice guy called Henning who was passionate about getting out climbing and wanted to join us, and naturally, having some spare camping gear, we were more than happy to oblige. We started the hike in the middle of the afternoon because we like to suffer and it seemed a good idea. 1000ft below basecamp Karli threw up all the food and water she had eaten on the way in and the paced slowed. It can’t have been pleasant but seeing the end was near, she carried on. Arriving in the evening outside the mountain hut we loosely pitched the tent and settled down to a terrible dinner of packet pasta and nuts. It’s up there among the least appealing meals, bland, bad tasting, the kind of food you might not feed your dog but for some reason choose to eat on your holiday. Sitting below the intimidating face was pretty cool as it turned red in the setting sun. We had reservations about coming to climb it on a weekend and the queues that might form due to its popularity, but all would be well.

The secret and ease to the climb for us was, if we went around the back and scrambled 500ft up to the South Face, it would be much shorter. Our route was called Directa de los Martinez, Named after the man who climbed the peak Solo in 1904 and consisting of 490ft of easy climbing peaking at 5.7 on the Yosemite Decimal system (US climbing grade), followed by 400ft of exposed steep scrambling to the summit. There were a couple of climbers on route already which was nice as we had no guide book, just a phone picture of a page taken in a coffee shop way down below. It’s my first time climbing trad on limestone, hence the picking of an easy route, and it didn’t disappoint. Short but so much fun. The sun came around half way up and reaching the last bolted anchor , we put the ropes in the bag and scrambled up to the top; hitting the ridge at lunchtime, the ground dropped vertically 1000ft from where we had just come, and straight down 1700 the other way. With other climbing teams on the peak, the descent using the rappel stations was slow but allowed us to take in the views a little more. Arriving back down to our packs dehydrated after not really drinking any water and with it being 2pm and again hot, we began the slow descent down to the car on a long winding path.

karli and henning chillin out at an anchor

me eyeing up the route before beginning

the mountain hut below the face

rappelling back down

views for miles

the start of the descent towards the chain anchors

sport climbing today a few miles further on

I have to admit something, after spending time in the states and central, I have started liking the America climbing grading better than the UK grading system. It just seems easier, less wording, almost digital compared to analogue. We are now doing some sports climbing in Valles Del Trubia. Thats all for now

🙂

A Clip Too Far!

26 Jan 201828 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

‘When you have time to think about how far your falling, its a big fall.’

After setting off on the chance we might be able to get the next room ferry, then finding that we wouldn’t be able to catch the next roro ferry, we decided to head back to La Mojarra which was an hour away for some more sport climbing. This time we pushed a little harder, climbing 5.10s and the odd 5.11. It was brilliant fun. I also took a rather large fall, the first in a while. In the picture below I fell from where I was in the pic, to just past the dark pocket at the bottom of the picture. I fumbled at the clip, attempting to clip from a tiny crimp, putting up rope, dropping it, pulling more rope, then realising my hand barely had the crimp and I would be off before my hand was back at the gate. I decided to fall. While falling, it crossed my mind I had been falling quite some time (normally a fall is over before you realise its begun. Eventually the rope went tight and I let out a big ‘Wooooooh!’. A few minutes later I re-climbed the route, realising instead of holding the crimp an arms reach away there was a very easy to hold jug right next to the bolt. O well.

Karli also challenged herself leading every 5.9 of la Mojarra in a single day, and adding a couple of 10’s for good measure. It was great to be back with Chris and Nicole, pushing each other to climb other routes and taking plenty of falls along the way. La Mojarra is bolted in a perfect bolt before the crux manor sport climbers love, making falls safe and comfortable.

Each evening we have had the menu in the restaurant down to a fine art, picking the best value beer and hot food for the lowest price. Halving the bill compared to last time. Above are a few pics of the La Mojarra setting.

We are now a day out of Cartagena, getting ready to ship the vehicle back that will set in motion a series of events leading to us cycling South America.

Delicious donuts, a change of plan (again), 3 Hexes, 2 wires and a Prusik Loop

17 Jan 201828 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

I was going to write a blog about the importance of knowing how to prusik but after writing it and reading over i decided it was dull and instead, to write about donuts. (The prussic thing is at the bottom)

DELICIOUS SUGAR COATED DONUTS. They have been missing from my life. Through Mexico and Central America they have been weighed, measured and found wanting. Some shops sell dry ones that have sat for days. Some look like donuts, but are poor sponge cake imposters; dryer than the previous and coated with a bland coconut covering.

I was feeling peckish one Suesca day and decided to see myself to the bakery. While buying bread for the day, I noticed out the corner of my eye a real treat. A tray full on ring donuts with a good sugar coat. I was psyched. I purchased a couple. On returning to the hostel I made coffee, sat down and began to chow down. The extra delight hit when i realised despite the missing hole they had still filled them with a delicous caramel apple sauce. Enough on donuts.

Now, the past couple of weeks we had planned on selling Karli’s car and continuing on bicycle down through the south. This plan was going great until the buyer backed out a couple of days before he arranged to buy it. Which is fair enough, and we have quickly and cayoticaly re-planned. The car will now be shipped back to mexico, where we will meet it on the 8th of february after flying via Miami, then drive it back to Colorado, weaving to destinations as we go. From denver, we will work on selling the car, getting a resupply of extra equipment, go ice climbing till the end of winter (and maybe ski) and then fly back to colombia to cycle the continent. Hopefully climbing peaks along the way. BOOM!!

The thing I decided not to write

Climbing a rock is one thing, knowing how to climb safely is a completely different thing. At the start of this trip with Karli, the very first days climbing, I started teaching her basic climbing knots and some more advanced knots. The majority of which you would or wouldn’t need in a standard days climbing, but some would eventually become useful when you lack or lose gear on routes.

Among these were knots such as bunny ears, munter hitch, clove hitch and the humble prusik knot, or rather three variations of it. At the time Karli questioned what the use of most of these were and why we practiced using them. Until a couple of days ago.

We had a few days of sport climbing, then we went back out doing a repeat climb of L.P. , one of the routes in Suesca. The last time we climbed it we had a blast and it was smooth.

1st pitch

2nd pitch

This time every single piece of protection placed straight away and tugged into position nicely. For me this was great and i had a blast climbing smooth, for Karli it turned into a nightmare of hanging on a rope thumping at wires, every single placement stuck fast. So it continued at a belay made up of hexes,me having super easy placements, and Karli probably wishing I was dead . After two pitches I decided to place runners more sparsely to lessen the pain. I led the next pitch, and on pulling the rope for karli to come up behind me it snagged. With no line of sight and the sound of rapids below we couldn’t hear each other. Between me on belay and Karli was around 40 meters of tight rope and 10 meters of slack at Karli’s end. After waiting for about 20 minutes I was contemplating tying off the rope and rappelling down to see if karli was OK when the rope came loose again.

Very resourcefully karli realised I was on belay and the rope was pinched in a crack just out of sight. She tied on a prusik loop to the rope and began taking in the slack as she moved towards the edge of the springboard under the roof (overhanging rock), eventually tying a new figure 8 mid way on the rope just below the prussic and coiling the spare rope. As she climbed to the edge of the roof the rope came slack and things resumed as normal. A potentially dangerous situation turned into a non-issue with the use of a prussic. Time spent practicing was well spent. This is the first time in 14 years I have been on a rope that managed to get caught in such a manor.

Karli practicing her prussics a couple of months ago.

To close, a pic of what happens to Karli when she lies in a hammock and there is 60meters of rope hanging about. Enjoy!

A Place Full Of Unnoticeable Masters

10 Jan 201828 Jan 2018 / bens game / 1 Comment

“Behind the rock in the Dark probably hides a tiger, and the coiling giant root resembles a crouching dragon”. – An old Chinese Idiom, referring to a place full of unnoticeable masters. I feel this is fitting to Suesca as I climb up through the Spanish Moss cresting a roof.

The route still on my mind is L.P. The guy that put the route up said its a 5.7 but needs the head of a 5.9 leader. After asking locals later it’s part 5.7, parts 5.8 and a bit of 5.9. Our first attempt ended at the first loose band of rock below the roof and questioning if indeed we were on the right route. It started with a dihedral, then overcome a bulge to a crack and up onto a ledge, about 30meters. The severity of this supposed 5.6 pitch made me question what was to come. It resulted in a rap down and going to get some more Beta. The modest route had an easy weakness through if you knew where to look. After asking a friend we went back the next day.

The second attempt, after confirming we were supposed to go through the frail loose band went better. From the ledge you weave through the poor rock to pull a large roof, climb a second corner that becomes slightly overhanging with the odd hand jam, to another belay under a roof, about 30 meters. The cover picture is from the second belay looking at the second roof. 2nd pitch- A belly crawl along a canon and then a fine balance flip over with good exposure to climb the roof . From there it’s two long pitches of easier ground 5.6-7, dropping to 5.4 the higher you go. Good protection with great views, the belay on top is a series of chicken heads (little forms of sandstone you can tighten slings around) strung together in a that should do it kind of manor. All in around 130meters. The thing is, most the 5.9 sport routes in the area are easier than this was. It humbles you. The stone lords keeping you in your place. But is brilliant fun, one of the best routes here.

Many talented climbers come here saying they will climb a certain grade, and certainly they climb a grade or two beyond my own ability. But come back at the end of a day with a tail between legs and shell shock from the run out protection and bolts, combined with words to the effect of ‘Im sure that 11a is actually a 12’. But out of dejection rises a strength and enjoyment in the coming days, and a respect for the guys that first climbed here.

We are back in Suesca after a week over christmas around La Mojarra, a sport climbing venue. La Mojarra was an opposite to Suesca but a welcome break. Good, safe bolts that are maintained, and mainly very overhanging. Which was cool and safe to fall on. And what’s more, after running out of 8s and 9s, all the 5.10 grade climbs attainable and feeling like the grade stated. And made me feel like pushing more to 11s.

pics- La Mojarra. friends Chris and Nicole having a play.

We have also been back to our secret valley for some bouldering. Boulders seem to have sprouted from the ground since the first visit and every corner turned is another problem. The friction on this rarely climbed rock is bril and with a cool breeze chalk barely needed. To top it off we have probably averaged seeing one other person up there over 4 days.

Life has been nice and slow of recent, getting up, waiting for clouds to dissipate around 9-10 then climbing. Every other day resting. I decided with the amount of beer drank last year I could have been ten times the climber had I not. So this year so far the tally stands at 1. I’m keeping to that until at least this eve.

Yesterday we climbed with a Austrian friend who after an easier route, chucked up a 5.11d top rope for me to flail on, after getting back down stating he thinks its more 12. I tried, and fell, and tried , and fell, then quit. Ill be back for it.

Another more interesting post coming tomorrow. Maybe.

Valle De Los Halcones

6 Dec 201728 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

Once upon a time when I started this trip I was like a lone wolf, bounding across the meadows and mountains.. Then I met Karli, and we were two misfit wolves driving across the desert and mountains. Then Chris and Nicole came along, and we were a pack of wolves looking for bad ass climbs….

Knowing the Suesca main crag would be busy We decided to concentrate a weekend on the Valle De Los Halcones. According to the guidebook the land was private and all the bolts on the area had been cut off by the land owner due to climbers making a mess. Fortunately for us an American and another English lad, Jason and Sam, were living in Suesca and said we could park at their house right on the edge of the valley and they knew the land owners. They invited us to talk to them and after a brief few minutes of talking Chris had made it clear we would be careful and take everything out we brought in. The owner permitted us to enter the valley for 2000COP each (about 60cent each or 40p).

We grabbed our packs and headed over the rise into the valley. It felt nice to have a short walk in again. Despite going running most mornings including this one the small rise had me breathing hard. It could have been the pack of climbing gear and a 6 litre bottle of water and the 9000ft elevation, but hard work felt hard.

Entering the valley was like entering a lost world. Crazy knowing a mile away were hundreds of people climbing on top of each other. We walked around a while and found a big slab worthy of a play. All the bolts had been cut or removed so we ran a rope to a boulder further back and set up a top rope for the morning.

The start of the problem was hard. Real hard. First I tried, then Chris, then Karli, we all failed. The crimps were too small and shoes just weren’t holding. Nicole came next and some kind of witchcraft happened, she just cruised to a higher point. But was again stumped. The line was hard. Not being dismayed we all took a turn overcoming the hard part with some aid and climbed higher. The top 2/3rds of the boulder were awesome. Small crimps combined with good footholds and a couple of flake holds leaving a dyno to the top for a rounded edge.

We took it in turns going for the top. I took the chance while not on the rope to run around to the top and lean over to get these shots.

sequence of climbing to falling. quite cool I think

After a while and getting the whole sequence linked we moved further down the valley to relax while climbing up and down some vertical/slightly overhanging but easy crag. At the end of the day we were all pretty beat and cold and headed back to town for 60cent beers and soup.

With thanks to Das_Karlo, Burritocharmer and Olas_y_montanas.

Psyched

5 Dec 201728 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

Climbing over time becomes more than a sport. It becomes a personal edge of determination and certainty as you stare into the abyss of darkness knowing you will come through. (Sometimes that abyss is quite big and scary)

It becomes the cool steady head of a gun-slinger in the wild west outnumbered ten to one but knowing his hand is faster and aim flawless. I remember when i started climbing, it was just before dawn, the air freezing, crisp and sharp. Staring at a crag my friend was leading me to, wondering how i would climb that seemingly impenetrable fortress of black rock piercing the sky all around me. Did my friend not know gravity worked heavily against me? I felt scared, but i have remembered that day for the past 14 years.

As time went on, i realized if one treads lightly, slowly but surely , there is always a secret corridor nature will permit you to pass through. tens of thousands of years of glaciers, storms and weather creating small flaws of beauty that allow me to pass in the blink of an eye. Seeing it in the fragile delicate state. Knowing eventually it will all be gone, and maybe in a few years the route I climbed will be gone forever. Only lasting in memory.

Today I went out climbing, like most the past week, to Suesca, Colombia. The day started like every other, around half ten Karli and I grabbed a coffee for 30 cent from the local coffee shop. We tried to meet some friends up for a climb on a remote crag, but found only barbed wire and no trespassing signs blocking the way. After two hours of trying and seeing the day slip away we reverted back to the main crag of Suesca. A climb we picked out a few days earlier was on the agenda. Nothing too technical or trying, graded to 5.6(MVS). A three pitch route following some blackish sandstone up a chimney, up a corner, then over some open area.

a young climber top-roping to the left of our route. the redline shows our line and the first belay

It looked straight forwards and like an easy afternoon out.

Upon arriving at the base the start of the climb was occupied by a guide and group. Which left us two alternates- 20 meters of 5.7 with no protection, or 20meters of 5.8 with protection. (protection being climbing hardware placed in cracks to arrest a fall). The 5.8 sounding harder I weasled over to the 5.7 a few feet away. We geared up and I started up timidly, so far the trad routes of Suesca have been harder than graded. After 5 meters I stopped and looked at the rock, would it be the same as some of the previous routes with a vicious sting to stump me 10 meters up? I had a quick assessment – full of pockets, small cracks and features. Not that dis-similar to some nice climbs back home. I focused on the rock and forgot about the potential of a fall.

I started climbing.

Its been a while since i felt the same certainty of outcome. I was enjoying each easy move, feeling for good, positive holds or gentle pinches and precisely placing my fett like a doctor might use a scalpel. its a while since i felt at home on a climb. Aftrer linking up with the 5.6 route I made a solid belay and brought up Karli. The next pitch looked ominous. A dark cathedral like corner, vertical and seeming to overhand slightly at the top. Not an average 5.6 but the holds looked good and the conrner offered a perfect fist sized hole every step. I used a single cam which i bumped up a couple of times (due to having only one adequate sized cam) to just over half way, before deciding its security would not be required any higher and climbing straight up would be easy. At the top of the corner the route opened up to great views and a decently large belay ledge.

Karli coming up the last few meters of the first pitch

The final pitch was an entertaining mix of steps. Ledges, small slabs and small roofs from weathered stone but full of pockets. Holes, sculptures of ghouls and gargoyles and fine crisp flakes of sandstone that would snap with the most delicate touch. It was smooth climbing and the odd runner for safety. It was joy. At first I though the final pitch was only 5 meters but it went on for about 40 meters. On the top I chose a solid anchor, sat down and brought up the slack rope.

I was Stoked, I think that is the first time I have used that word. This is what climbing is about. Not the hardest routes, but the beautiful ones.

Being Wild

26 Nov 201728 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

While visiting anywhere there is always somebody trying to get money. In Suesca it was in the form of a local standing at the roadside asking for money for where we were parked, when we enquired about camping he asked for 30,000COP , about 10USD. This might seem reasonable but to prolong travelling, free is always better. We drove up the far side of the valley to a small disused quarry where the local farmer said we were welcome to stay. Once there we deployed the tarp to gather rain water and save more money, look at that majestic water gathering machine. Jealous ain’t you!?. Saved 70cent in the days water bill right there.

morning view

the edges of the tarp are strung in to ensure no potential water is lost

sunrise

This place has also given us spectacular evening lightning shows. Consistently on the other side of the valley which is reassuring as we camp on top of a vehicle with great lightning rods poking out in all directions. Its incredibly humbling each time there is a strike that looks like it will destroy any tree building or structure in the way. It puts us in our place.

Back down in the valley eating costs little. 3 dollars can buy two people a decent meal consisting of a couple bowls of soup, a plate full of rice, chicken, plantain, salad and fries, and a couple of fresh fruit drinks. add evening meals cooked ourselves for 3-4 dollar and daily living is cheap

Add to it one of my favourite outdoor stores (decathlon) is down the road in Bogata selling low cost outdoor wear and equipment for any sport and the cost of living compared to Central America seems to have halved. My reccomendation to anybody travelling who likes the outdoors is skip central and get to South America!!

Anyhow, bye for now 🙂

Trad Climbing in Suesca, Colombia

26 Nov 201728 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

So. In prep for some bigger mountains, I’ve started teaching Karli how to trad. She can sport climb already, so its been quite good progress, the past week has been spent around Suesca, Colombia. Camping at around 9400ft which is a nice gentle bit of acclimatisation for Cocuy National Park. We have been running and climbing each day. By that, I mean climbing some, and thinking of running; then not.

Ive been teaching Karli how to place gear, build anchors and safely rappel. She led her first multi pitch, approx 250ft, a good solid 5.7 (American grade) with some interesting features- 35meters up an interesting clean corner, a 15meter run out on a traverse without any protection, and a nice steep 40 meter corner to climb with bomber protection. A great fun route .

red line is the route with green indicating anchors we used

topping out

view down from the second belay ledge

We have been camping up the hill on the far side of the valley, in an old dissused quarry big enough to hide the car from weather with great views back the way too, nice sunsets, lightning storms and best of all its free.

top of route after Karli’s first multi pitch route and lead.

top of another three pitch route

coiling rope after a good day out

the end of the traverse before going straight up.

The weather has held up great and we have been ticking lots of simple routes. Below is a picture of Karli gasing the wildlife with arms raised, poor squirrels, didn’t know what hit em’. Lunch has been from a local restaurant costing about 3 dollars to feed and water both of us with soup, and a plate full of chicken and rice and veg and fresh juice. The roof tent has been building a nice sweaty climbing shoe aroma after a week of not washing. We are back in Bogota for a weekend off before another week or so of climbing in Suesca and running in the evenings before the ambition grows. After the restrictiveness of Central America nearly sending me crazy with cabin/car fever being confined by rain, high entrance fees and every local sticking out a hand wanting money, South America is starting to become really good fun and re-establish why we are on this trip.

higher up her first trad lead

placing prot.

practicing rappelling from bolts

small way up another route

the view

the sunrise

Central America

26 Nov 201728 Jan 2018 / bens game / Leave a comment

So….. Central America. A lot has happened since I last wrote in Honduras, we have been through Nicaragua where we hired motorcycles to zoom around Ometepe, this was very touristy but going to the far end of the island we found a small hostel among where the locals live where that was reasonable, we went kayak touring one morning and I was pee’d on by a monkey in the trees above I got too close to. Lots of wildlife, spiders, creepy crawlies. We did a few smaller hikes, up to waterfalls. A night visit to an active volcano and plenty of driving miles. We visited an old fort where gorillas were imprissoned (people, not the animals). The Nicaraguan police were corrupt as expected. I can’t blame them, i am told they earn $250dollar per month. On one day we had a policeman step out onto a carrige way to flag me down as he saw the foreign rich car approach, I drove around him and carried on. Later that day another police officer did manage to flag us down to inform us we performed an illegal manouver and would have to pay a fine. Fortunately for us he spoke no English and we played the dumb tourists for 15minutes till he waved us away. I think every overlander going through Nicaragua has had a similar experience.

Volcano in Nicaragua

I’ve heard of some officers that will play a waiting game for hours until their bluff is called asking for a senior officer to come at which point they say its no problem, carry on. I found it novel going to a big market one day where all the produce was ‘locally made by family’ but was identical through out the rest of central america and had an authentic chinese look about it. After Nicaragua came Costa Rica, the price of everything went up driving over the border. National parks charging up to 32dollars to camp the night. Bare in mind the most expensive American National Park I visited, cost about 30dollars for a week, or less if you camp in the back country. I imagine the prices are so high because mainly tourists come for one week holidays and have come too far to say no.

The river picture is a hot spring, or rather there is an expensive touristy hot spring just up from this point for about 40dollars per visit, which heats the river to a nice warm bath right below for free, complimented by the cooling rain from above. A great place to chill for a few hours. To the right is a free camp place by a lake, with me stringing out a tarp to collect rain water. Supermarkets seemed to charge a great deal for bottled clean water. Due to the cost of central, we made the decision to gun it for Colombia. Onto Panama.

We didn’t have too much time in Panama, just over a week before shipping the vehicle by container. We found some free camping and a bolted crag (cliff) local enthusiasts cleaned up. A nice couple of days falling repeatedly on routes. Just outside Panama City was a nice high camp that was cool enough to go running from in the morning.

climbing the basalt formations in panama

flying panama to Colombia

me running one humid morning up a hill near Panama City. A nice cool camp high up

loading Karli into the container, i tried to pay the shipping agent to lock her in there, reasoning she had food and water, they didn’t buy it

the container was shared with a couple of overlanders to reduce cost. this is the colombia end,.

Now we are in Colombia And the world has opened up again. Instead of paying to climb a volcano, its just a small park entrance fee. Instead of the compulsary guides, they are optional. There is free camping, decent stores, cheap food in restraunts and supermarkets. Im getting psyched. Near by there are big mountains over 5000m , snow, cool temperatures, unlimited climbing and nights of sleep where i don’t have to sweat.

This week I was particularly psyched about a decathlon store for cheap clothing. I think Karli is getting sick of the same pair of shorts I have been wearing since we started the trip. They have gone from black to faded grey.

Next blog – trad climbing- it should be more interesting from here.