Les falaises du jour
After driving virtually all night and most the next day, we pulled into a dusty little campsite near a town called Mazan. Tents were pitched in about 2 minutes and then we split to the nearest crag - the Paynes Ford like walls of the Venasque valley. This valley is what Island Valley could be if only the rock there was actually solid. The rock is layered limestone (just like Paynes) and most of the routes are vertical to about 30 degrees overhanging on slopey rails and a good smattering of pockets (good - if you like that sort of thing!). Having done nothing but gritstone bouldering for months, neither of us were particularly fit and half a dozen 20-25m moderate routes left us feeling pretty pumped but happy. Seb's ankle was rudely swollen and he could barely weight it (he used crutches to get to the crag) but it didn't seem to hold him back on the rock. After watching some Frenchie almost come unstuck on a fingery looking 7b (25/26), Seb and I wound up the evening with a couple of scrappy (actually, only mine was scrappy) flashes. Not a bad way to start the trip.
The next day it poured with rain. Hard. Really, really hard. So, we drove into Avignon and, even though I knew it would be that way, we got really pissed off cos everything was shut. To make matters worse, the forecast in La Provence (the local rag) seemed to be predicting rain for the next ten days and slowly our mood started to sink. Seb asked if I knew of any climbing areas that might still be dry and we took a chance on the Canal sector at Orgon. This massive cave is home to routes such as Bronx 8c+ (34) and really fits the description 'a warehouse of hard routes'. In fact, the easiest route in the cave is 7c (27ish). After blasting down the dirty road in true rally style (filling my air intake with water in the process and fucking my engine!), we discovered that most of the routes were dry. After warming up on a wet 6a+ (18), we got straight to work on one of the steeper 7cs and managed to dispatch it in a couple of goes each. Seb then hauled up another 7c but the need for heelhooks and the gloomy weather drained our psyched and we ditched back to the tents to drink wine and talk shit.
In fact, the weather came right (and stayed right for the rest of the trip) and the next couple of days were spent at Venasque. We found a sweet little sector with 20m routes swinging out of a steep cave (a la 1080 and the letter G) onto a fierce overhanging headwall covered in small seemingly useless pockets. Apart from one 7b+ (26), all of the routes in this cave were 8a (29). I'd already done one of these routes the previous year and so jumped on the line to the left which looked harder and perhaps a little better.
The moves to the lip of the cave were moderate but the headwall had a stopper section that I couldn't even do first time on the rope - it was tasty little 3 move sequence (roughly v7) that involved a deadpoint off a two finger undercut to a shite sloper, then a hard match and slap to another two finger, first joint pock. Seb, who'd already dispatched a 7c second shot that morning, was storming and went for the redpoint second go. However, he found the stout pocket pulling hard on the ol' tendons and fell just below the crux. Feeling less confident, I worked the route for a second time in the evening and resolved to snatch a redpoint the next day. This proved to be a crafty strategy as, with a small amount of luck and a massive amount of determination, I managed to redpoint the route first shot the next morning. One of my hardest routes, 3rd attempt, 4th day on, belayed by my bro - that's what road trips are all about.
Badly in need of a rest day, we took in some sights on Wednesday. In our travels, we wandered up a long country lane to scope out another virtually unknown crag, Russan. What we found was the mother lode of steep tufa routes, including a 30m near horizontal roof with stalactites and quickdraws all over it. 8c anyone? Fortunately for us, there was a much more amenable sector to the right of the cave with about 40 routes between 7a (23/24) and 8b (31). We were so excited that we raced back to the car, drove all the way back to the campground (50mins), packed all our stuff up immediately and drove all the way back again - pitching our tents just down the road. The next day was going to be a great day!
Well, that's not quite how things played out. Even with a rest day, the lads were battling fatigue and the grades seemed really hard. I fell off the 6b (20) warm up and we both took a few goes to spank out a nasty little 7a+ (25 going on 28!). That's not to say that we weren't having fun and we had even more fun trying this killer tufa route called Pipeline 8a (29). With little experience on this type of rock, it took a few goes to get into the movement but by the end of the day I figured I might have a shot at redpointing it in the morning. Seb wasn't so psyched on
Pipeline and instead opted for a brutal crimpfest to the left. In hindsight, we were only deluding ourselves.
We raced up to the crag on Friday morning and warmed up on a steep pumpy 6c (22). We both felt trashed and Seb decided to rest. I couldn't, however, cos my draws were still on Pipeline. After one redpoint attempt which ended 3 moves from the end I was fucked. So we packed up and drove to Fontainebleau.
The last two days in Font were a blur of slopers, mantles and painkillers. Seb cranked hard, especially considering the amount of climbing we'd done that week and that his ankle had barely improved. He flashed a few 7as (v6) and busted out a few 7bs (v8) as well. We both tried Karma (dreamers!) and I managed to repeat a few hard problems that I'd done before. All in all it was a hardcore but extremely enjoyable week of climbing.
The end? Not quite. I thought I should mention the fact that after my crappy car had limped back to Calais, the French customs officers decided that we looked like trouble and we missed our channel crossing after they decided to search the car (including taking the panels off the doors!). Nice one.
The next day it poured with rain. Hard. Really, really hard. So, we drove into Avignon and, even though I knew it would be that way, we got really pissed off cos everything was shut. To make matters worse, the forecast in La Provence (the local rag) seemed to be predicting rain for the next ten days and slowly our mood started to sink. Seb asked if I knew of any climbing areas that might still be dry and we took a chance on the Canal sector at Orgon. This massive cave is home to routes such as Bronx 8c+ (34) and really fits the description 'a warehouse of hard routes'. In fact, the easiest route in the cave is 7c (27ish). After blasting down the dirty road in true rally style (filling my air intake with water in the process and fucking my engine!), we discovered that most of the routes were dry. After warming up on a wet 6a+ (18), we got straight to work on one of the steeper 7cs and managed to dispatch it in a couple of goes each. Seb then hauled up another 7c but the need for heelhooks and the gloomy weather drained our psyched and we ditched back to the tents to drink wine and talk shit.
In fact, the weather came right (and stayed right for the rest of the trip) and the next couple of days were spent at Venasque. We found a sweet little sector with 20m routes swinging out of a steep cave (a la 1080 and the letter G) onto a fierce overhanging headwall covered in small seemingly useless pockets. Apart from one 7b+ (26), all of the routes in this cave were 8a (29). I'd already done one of these routes the previous year and so jumped on the line to the left which looked harder and perhaps a little better.
The moves to the lip of the cave were moderate but the headwall had a stopper section that I couldn't even do first time on the rope - it was tasty little 3 move sequence (roughly v7) that involved a deadpoint off a two finger undercut to a shite sloper, then a hard match and slap to another two finger, first joint pock. Seb, who'd already dispatched a 7c second shot that morning, was storming and went for the redpoint second go. However, he found the stout pocket pulling hard on the ol' tendons and fell just below the crux. Feeling less confident, I worked the route for a second time in the evening and resolved to snatch a redpoint the next day. This proved to be a crafty strategy as, with a small amount of luck and a massive amount of determination, I managed to redpoint the route first shot the next morning. One of my hardest routes, 3rd attempt, 4th day on, belayed by my bro - that's what road trips are all about.
Badly in need of a rest day, we took in some sights on Wednesday. In our travels, we wandered up a long country lane to scope out another virtually unknown crag, Russan. What we found was the mother lode of steep tufa routes, including a 30m near horizontal roof with stalactites and quickdraws all over it. 8c anyone? Fortunately for us, there was a much more amenable sector to the right of the cave with about 40 routes between 7a (23/24) and 8b (31). We were so excited that we raced back to the car, drove all the way back to the campground (50mins), packed all our stuff up immediately and drove all the way back again - pitching our tents just down the road. The next day was going to be a great day!
Well, that's not quite how things played out. Even with a rest day, the lads were battling fatigue and the grades seemed really hard. I fell off the 6b (20) warm up and we both took a few goes to spank out a nasty little 7a+ (25 going on 28!). That's not to say that we weren't having fun and we had even more fun trying this killer tufa route called Pipeline 8a (29). With little experience on this type of rock, it took a few goes to get into the movement but by the end of the day I figured I might have a shot at redpointing it in the morning. Seb wasn't so psyched on
Pipeline and instead opted for a brutal crimpfest to the left. In hindsight, we were only deluding ourselves.
We raced up to the crag on Friday morning and warmed up on a steep pumpy 6c (22). We both felt trashed and Seb decided to rest. I couldn't, however, cos my draws were still on Pipeline. After one redpoint attempt which ended 3 moves from the end I was fucked. So we packed up and drove to Fontainebleau.
The last two days in Font were a blur of slopers, mantles and painkillers. Seb cranked hard, especially considering the amount of climbing we'd done that week and that his ankle had barely improved. He flashed a few 7as (v6) and busted out a few 7bs (v8) as well. We both tried Karma (dreamers!) and I managed to repeat a few hard problems that I'd done before. All in all it was a hardcore but extremely enjoyable week of climbing.
The end? Not quite. I thought I should mention the fact that after my crappy car had limped back to Calais, the French customs officers decided that we looked like trouble and we missed our channel crossing after they decided to search the car (including taking the panels off the doors!). Nice one.