On the climbing front, well, there hasn’t been any. Although, I can now report that I have been able to start again and have been three times in the last 2 weeks!! Only indoors though because I don’t know what it’s been like where you are but it feels like it’s been non-stop rain here in Sheffield for the last 3 weeks. But to be honest it’s early days anyway with my leg and I don’t think my physio would be happy with me climbing outside yet, unless I was on a very tight top-rope. Yesterday, was a big step forward at the wall, as I lead a few routes. I’ve got to be very careful not to fall off but after just top roping f5’s (which is all very well but I was getting a little fed up with that), I managed to lead a couple of f6’s. It felt great to be on the sharp end again and having a semi broken leg, certainly hones your sense of self-preservation! I can’t wear rock boots yet either, so am climbing in my Scarpa Mojitos- which work very well as they have sticky rubber and are very comfy. So all the foot placements are being very precise (as always!) and I’m being extra careful not to make any mistakes. It’s an absorbing process, especially because I don’t know what my leg/ankle is capable of; so every move is an experiment in what’s possible, interesting days.

About two weeks ago, I had a screw removed from my ankle. It’s a long story as I wasn’t going to have it removed but in the end did. I had to have a general anaesthetic, which wasn’t ideal (that’s another grim story which I won’t go into but suffice to stay it was one of the worst hospital experiences I’ve had). Enough of that, the good news is that the removal of the screw has been amazing. Even as I was lying on the hospital bed recovering from the op I could feel my ankle felt better, more flexible. And since then it’s gone from strength to strength. To be honest, I found it hard to believe that I’d had an operation, there was no pain (I kept waiting for the painkillers to wear off and the pain to kick in but it never happened) and my ankle was immediately useable and less painful to walk on etc. So that was a great success and I didn’t have any post-op sickness and was able to come home a few hours later.

I started driving again about a month ago, which was a relief. I was going stir crazy, as getting about was slow and frustrating due to the crutches but once I could drive, life started feeling a little better. And also being able to properly take Buis out for good walks has been lovely (except for the rain!), good for her, good for my soul and certainly good for the mobility and strength in my leg/ankle. I am walking on lots of uneven ground, through woods and moorland etc and I’m sure this is great rehab. I am also doing lots of physio exercises, without which I’m certain my recovery would’ve been slower and; the best thing is the water bucket. Twice a day I submerge my leg in a cold water bucket with ice blocks in for twenty minutes. This has been amazing. The first time I did it, I really struggled to keep my foot in for a minute at a time, the first five minutes were agony. Actually thinking back, it was when we had that amazing Summery weather at the end of March, because I can picture myself sitting in the garden in shorts and vest (!)- hard to believe that now. Anyway, I persisted and after five minutes my foot seemed to numb itself and ever since then it’s been absolutely fine in the bucket. But the benefits are palpable and not to be underestimated- especially after a long dog walk.

I am STILL waiting for a date for my shoulder operation and having just rung the hospital it seems they’ve lost my notes. Oh well, it sounds like it’ll be June time, that’s if I decide to have it done. I know a few people who’ve had SLAP lesion repairs and it seems the jury is out on whether it is worth the four month lay-off you need from climbing. Not sure I could handle that after the leg.

Consequently, we haven’t been able to plan anything regarding future trips etc, everything is a bit up in the air. My short term dream is that in a month, I’ll be able to go to Pembroke on a beautiful sunny day and climb some fantastic classic routes and remind myself of everything that is beautiful about climbing and the climbing environments- here’s hoping. Buis has never been either, so it would be a first trip for her too.

Could this be a reality soon...?

Life without Kodo is getting easier. We think about her everyday and sometimes shed a few tears but her memory lives on. We have so many happy and beautiful recollections of her that it’s hard not to smile. She was the true Dalai-pupster! Buis-Bear was very depressed to lose her sister but has now adjusted and now we have new neighbours with the mad but lovely ‘Ruby’, she has a new best friend, so all is good in her world too.

I’m off to do some self-development!! Some people may scoff but I feel this is an important area in our lives and I know I for one have neglected myself over the last few years and it’s time I confronted this matter. I’ve been reading books and have even attended a couple of courses and already feel that I have become more productive in my everyday life. This is a good feeling and is helping me to become more positive after the bad start to 2012.

I hope you are all surviving the rain and haven’t been washed away in any floods and are managing to keep your spirits up. Also, that your climbing is progressing after a long winter and you are enjoying yourselves, injury free.

When it hasn't been raining, I've managed to take some nice images out in The Peak.

Click the images on the left to view full size.

Unfortunately, I don’t feel ‘Climb’ have done this place justice. I am not in the habit of publicly airing my grievances but in this instance I feel quite strongly about it. Partly because I think it doesn’t show Ettringen in it’s best light (Tim took so many amazing images while we were there), and the other reason is because I don’t think it represents me very well as a writer.

Briefly, the article is shorter than it should’ve been and I feel the heart of the article has been edited out. Both Tim and I put a lot of effort into this piece, while we were there and when we returned. I researched and wrote a lot of information on Ettringen, including recommended crags and recommended routes in those areas, as there are a lot of sub sectors here. I feel this information is crucial to people who want to visit an area and to publish an article without this information is wrong; especially if the information was supplied. Due to how it’s been edited it now has a sub-title of ‘Recommended Areas’ and the areas listed are the only areas that exist, so it’s a complete misnomer and makes me look like a bit of an idiot.

So I am very disappointed with the article  and feel it was a missed opportunity. But what I would like to say, is if you are thinking of going there and would like some tips on the areas and good routes, then I do have this information, so please get in touch.

Thumbs down for ‘Climb’ this month and rant over.

If you have ever wondered what other types of clothing Marmot do apart from high end waterproofs (!), then nows your chance to check it out; I'm sure you'll be surprised and impressed.

I will be posting more details at a later date.

It was a fantastic event as ever, dare I say it- even better than last year! We had so many people and as I have been presenting for three years now, it's quite easy to tell.

And also, the sun shone so brightly; we tried to arrange rain but that Mr. Sun just wouldn't go in. So the people who did make it down to sit and watch films in a darkened room, were true supporters of the event and got to see some great films to boot!

Also, click here for the results of CWIF (Climbing Works International Festival). Luckily, there was a live feed from the comp being shown at ShAFF which I was very pleased about. These events are always on the same weekend, so I always miss being able to go and watch CWIF. Anyway, it was awesome seeing Shauna and Dave win such a high level competition- congratulations to them both.

To find out more and maybe pick up some tips, click here to see what she's asked...

Just to give you a bit of background, I am 33 & a petite 5ft, I have been climbing now for 3 years, and have been leading routes for the last 2. I am leading mainly S & HS with a couple of VS's.

However I have difficulty with the 'mental' approach when leading. Do you have any advice on controlling my racing mind?

I only seem to panic when leading, & although I have been told my gear placement is good I can’t help but totally lace the routes & still worry that if I fall the gear will pop out. Or I fear will get to a point where I cannot reach the next hold (I have seconded many routes & had to just dyno for holds or balance on the smallest ‘pebble’ &  although I have not fallen there is no way I could have also placed gear to protect moves). Yet I have also happily followed several E1's and an E2, without falling or panicking.

I am just about to start climbing again after a broken wrist (not from climbing) & would like to start a new season of climbing positively & with a fresh mental approach.

Answer:

Don’t worry Emma, you are not alone. Regrettably this is a common worry for a lot of climbers I come across. It’s also quite a tricky question for me to answer but I’ll certainly try.

Although you have given me some useful info about you and your climbing, you haven’t mentioned the rock type that you are having these problems with. From some of the things you say, IE. Balance and pebbles, I guess you are talking about grit. Now due to your stature this is relevant and has a bearing on your confidence levels. So I will answer your question under the assumption you are mainly a grit climber.

Now there are two things going on;

Confidence in your gear placements and

Confidence in your climbing ability

So one at a time, let’s look at gear first.

Placing gear has certain rules but it is also a very personal thing. Different people have varying placements that they would be happy to fall on. As a lead climber it is very important that you are mentally ready to take control and be in charge of what happens to you on a route. No one else can help you once you are up there climbing, so you have to learn to be self reliant. This means it could be well worth your while having some sessions where you essentially workshop yourself in placing gear. It’s all very well other people telling you your gear is good but if you don’t believe that deep down then they are empty words. So I suggest (with a friend you trust) you find a section of crag at ground level that has plenty of opportunity for gear placements; then you place around six-ten pieces of gear, a mixture of nuts and cams. Then together you look at each piece of gear and assess how good they are marking them between 1 and 5. We all place bad pieces of gear (hopefully only when that is all that is available. IE. Something is better than nothing!) but the trick is to know what makes a good or bad piece. You can also attach a sling to the pieces and do some downward yanking to see how the placements respond.

Once you have gone through this process a few times and are happy with what makes a good placement work, then you could progress to dropping a heavier weight onto these pieces IE. A rucksack filled with ‘stuff’. This is occasionally how people who headpoint routes test bits of gear that they aren’t happy with, just to see how much load they can take.

The main thing is, at the end of this process you are a lot more confident and happy that your gear placements are good and you know why they are good. You are obviously aiming to place gear that you would score 4’s and 5’s with some 3’s thrown in. 1’s and 2’s are placed as a last resort and preferably a cluster of them together, so they can be equalized and add up to a 4 or 5 placement. There are plenty of videos on you tube where you can glean useful info, so it would be worth checking these out before you have your workshop sessions at the crag.

The final test for you and your gear (and this is especially important if you have never taken a leader fall) is…to take a leader fall! So, you need a couple of friends and a route that you can easily set up a top rope on. Then basically you can lead up, place gear and happily fling yourself off with the knowledge that the top rope will be your back up. Obviously, your top-rope belayer doesn’t want the rope to be tight, there has to be enough slack in the system, so that all of your fallen weight is taken by the gear. I’m sure you’ll have fun with this and will probably be impressed by the bits that you weren’t sure about. So make sure you try some falls on what you assess to be grade 1-3 pieces and see how they fare.

Next, is your climbing confidence.

I can relate to some of the things you have written regards your worries about not reaching holds or simply having to dyno or do very hard moves to get to the next hold. When you are short, this is a genuine reality of climbing but I think is magnified on gritstone. The nature of grit is that it can be quite featureless and you don’t have a choice of different hand or footholds, whereas on limestone, you tend to be able to climb the route in the way you want to rather than how the route dictates. Grit in a funny way can feel like climbing indoors (oops, I think I heard a few gasps of breath from outraged peak climbers), only from the perspective of ‘either there is a hold or there isn’t’. So this is useful to remember and what I’ve done over the years, after some nasty experiences, is head for the cracks. I love a grit crack because;

1. There is always gear and
2. You will always be able to reach the holds or should I say the jams!

So assessing your route is very important and I feel you should only head onto a grit route that you don’t know much about, when you are feeling confident and in a go for it mood. As a small person, it can be a very difficult rock to push your grade on, so don’t feel bad if you haven’t whizzed up through the grades. I’d suggest hunting out friendly (and solid) limestone (or mountain) crags where you can test yourself and maybe push yourself a bit more.

All my hard ascents have been on limestone-style rock and after years of analysis I now understand why that is.

Good luck.

Basically, on Sunday morning, Kodo the wonder-being died. This has been the most difficult time of my life and it is hard to feel it’s going to get better but intellectually I know it will.

To those of you who knew Kodo, you may have an inkling of understanding as to why I am grieving so. She had a genuine love for life that was infectious and couldn’t be ignored. She was a light in our life that burned so bright and brought such joy, that when the light is gone, the world feels a darker place. Her presence was beautiful and she didn’t just bring joy to our lives, she made friends wherever she went. She spread her Kodo-love around and that was what was special about her, as well as loving life she loved people and although she was part of our family, she wouldn’t hesitate to potter off and make friends along the crag- especially if there might have been a few titbits on offer or a tummy-tickle to be had.

Writing this is actually making me smile, I thought when I started I was going to have to waterproof my keyboard as Niagara Falls was welling up and about to descend but in fact I am feeling quite happy.

Remembering all the Kodo gorgeousness just can’t help but make me feel slightly more positive

To those of you who aren’t animal lovers, I make no apologies for the strong emotions I am feeling. This little being was the centre of our family and I don’t care whether it’s a horse, a person, a budgie, or a rat- if they are part of you and share your life, then you are going to feel incredible loss when they are gone.

Kodo was with us 24/7, we are lucky that we have a great lifestyle for owning dogs, she came everywhere with us and shared all our time. To suddenly have that taken away is shocking to say the least. She was a demanding little sausage and was always there whatever you were doing being nosy and inquisitive but what she asked for she gave back a hundred fold. The unconditional love, positivity and absolute commitment to living life to the full was Kodo’s gift to us and I will always thank her for that.

Bless you Kodo we loved you so much and you will always be in our hearts.

Tim's first picture of Kodo, we had only just got her from the RSPCA and she was a year and four months old, Jan 2004.

1. I’ve been away ice climbing in Italy and
2. I’ve broken my leg!!!!

Unfortunately, I’m not joking (I wish I was) and I am now facing up to the fact that I am housebound and non-weight bearing for 6 weeks. Housebound because of the snow and ice at the mo, where I live is a bit hilly and it would be typical of me to slip over and break my other leg! And non-weight bearing because when I returned from Italy, I went to the Northern General here in Sheffield (which fortunately has a very good orthopaedic department) and they put me straight in for an operation. There was me thinking that it was a simple break to the fibula- no such luck. Turns out the break wasn’t great and I’d ruptured ligaments too. So I’ve now got titanium plates and screws in my leg.

So how did it happen?

Well, v boring to be honest. Wish I could tell a story of high octane radical ice that I was scaling but no, I was on the walk home (rushing and messing about) caught my crampon and Bob’s your uncle, one broken leg. If only I could turn the clocks back but what’s done is done and that’s just the way it is. I confess that I am pissed off and annoyed with myself, especially so because Tim and I were meant to be off on a different trip about now. It was going to be my first, fun, sport climbing trip for about two years- hey ho!

So how was Cogne?

Up to when I broke my leg, it was great fun. Admittedly we could’ve had better conditions (IE. It was very warm and the ice was thin in places to say the least) but considering the Aosta valley was one of only a few places in the Alps that had reliable ice and low avalanche potential, we couldn’t complain. We got about four days done and were just about starting to  feel in the groove with ice climbing again. In the last ten years, I’d climbed about two ice routes and Tim similar, so it took a few days to gain confidence and work it all out again. With that in mind, I was getting there with the climbing bit but forgot to concentrate on the walking bit- always the way.

But I had always wanted to go to Cogne, so it was great to get there finally and we went with Adrian Berry and his mate Gabriel, which was handy as Adrian had been a couple of times before and could act as our local guide. We stayed in some nice self catering accommodation in Lillaz (about 3kms from Cogne) called Les Nigritelles, which was a short walk away from some of the best routes around and had friendly hosts Eliza and Carlo. Although the village is quiet, there was an Italian National Husky racing competition one weekend which Tim loved, as he’s always wanted to take pictures of dog-racing. So we had a rest day while he did that and I went for a walk into Cogne, which was pleasant. Anyway, it’s certainly a venue I would head back to and when I’m all healed up, next winter I hope and intend to get onto some of the bigger harder routes.

Oh I forgot to mention my Joe Simpson moment. After my tumble and Tim having to lower me onto the path as it was too steep for me to slide the whole way down on my bum, we still had a couple of hours daylight left, so I decided I didn’t want the ignominy of calling a helicopter (after all I wasn’t at risk of dying, although I did feel a bit queasy and light-headed!!), so I decided to try and crawl. It was about an hour and a half normal walk on an uneven snowy trail, which I can assure you was very painful to crawl on and wasn’t the most comfortable journey I’ve ever made. We tried with Tim holding me up and me hopping with a stick but my good leg got tired very quick and it was quite hard work for both of us due to the uneven terrain and also painful having the broken one hanging down and swinging about. So crawling seemed the best option and I tried to head for the softer snow to save my knees. It felt like I’d been going for ages and I asked Tim how far he reckoned I’d got and he said, “Erm, 200metres?”. Hmm, that wasn’t the answer I was hoping for. After I’d gone about three quarters of a mile, the whole ‘Touching The Void’ thing was losing it’s charm. We’d been going for about an hour and probably had another painful couple to go and the light was starting to drop. My will power was drifting off, so I sat and had a rest. Tim had gone back to retrieve something from the sacks and I was pondering my situation, when a couple of guys approached me. They asked if I needed help and said they’d seen me crawling from the distance and came over to lend a hand. It was very kind of John and Elved to come over, although I was slightly mortified when one of them said after seeing my face “You’re Lucy Creamer aren’t you?” Well yes I am but I would’ve preferred not to have been reminded of it at that precise moment, as I was feeling a little silly.

"My leg before the plaster went on."

Anyway, with three blokes now to help, things looked up as two of them tried to aid my upright hopping. But annoyingly, it was still very difficult for us due to the snow and pain factor, so again I resorted to crawling. So I now had three guys following me at a snails pace which must have been incredibly frustrating for all concerned.

But then there was a strange sound in the distance, a low rumbling or a humming. And then it got louder, until eventually a lovely gleaming stallion of a helicopter came swooping round the corner into our valley.

It was quite a relief I have to admit. And once I was packaged onto a stretcher, the journey to the hospital in Aosta was a swift and relaxing one. Tim and I spent a couple of hours in the hospital, surrounded by people with skiing injuries, they x-rayed me and plastered me up, then sent me off to buy drugs and crutches.

We had a couple of days left looking longingly at the ice before it was time to head home; the 12 hour drive back to Calais in Adrian’s van was a tad uncomfortable but went smoothly and had to be done. And then my trusty BMC insurance organised a taxi from London the next day, which was a lot more comfortable and got us back to Sheff safe and sound.

So, up to date, the next thing on the agenda is results of an MRI scan that I had on my shoulder, which was actually painfree when I was ice climbing and didn’t cause any problems at all.

Bye bye for now.

"Back in Sheffield, the bruising that indicated more problems than just the fibula IE. Ruptured ligaments and prompted the Doctors to operate"