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::MMC Newsletter July 2009::

This months newsletter has not one but two meet reports for the recent trip to Pembroke. One official and one rather more unofficial and frankly far better... Please note the email version has been sent to give some friday afternoon reading material, the online version of the newsletter will be updated sunday evening along with a new library page (depending on how long it takes to sort out all those links).

Plenty of images of Ecrins have been turning up and being tagged on MMC members facebook accounts. I'm hoping someone (Bea?) will put together a few words and images of the meet to allow those not lucky enough to go to bask in a little reflected alpine holidaying - see we are a mountaineering club honest.

Anyone else wondering whatever happened to our wiki site?

::Meets

Dartmoor : 28^th - 31^st August

Venue: Beara Farm Campsite

Organiser: Victoria Spashett(h) 02076283351

Details: Dartmoor, famous for its gritstone nobbles.

Pembroke May Holiday 2009

Despite warnings on the news about bad traffic on the motorways over the bank holiday weekend, an impressive number of MMC members and prospective members (43 in total) hit the M4 on Friday evening. The traffic was truly appalling, with the first 50 miles of the journey taking 3 hours for some people! Eventually, most people arrived at the campsite by 2am.

The club's first choice campsite was fully booked up, apparently due to the St David's Choral Music Festival occuring that week, so we had to resort to staying in a more basic alternative, with very basic toilet facilities.

Saturday dawned with decidedly clement weather and Nick, Will, Simon Atkins and Janet were the first of many who strolled down to Porth Clais which we have traditionally always used as an easy first day crag. They set up an ab rope that became communal property during the day seeing umpteen MMCers slide down it. It should be pointed out here that the rope was just anchored around a pointy rock at the top of the crag and was by no means invulnerable to being flicked off. It was amusing (and a bit scary) to see large numbers of people concentrating fiercely in using extension slings and prussics on a completely benign ab (thick rope, short and down a slab) while being utterly oblivious to this obvious risk.

Nick climbed mostly with Janet and romped up a number of easy graded classics such as Red Wall. He didn’t do anything hard apart from top roping the poorly protected Dreamboat Annie (easy on a TR, bicycle clips on a lead). Janet let her first VS on Diagonal Crack.

Jason, Andrew and Chuck also went to Porth Clais. They did one HS there and decided to leave the rest of them to it and headed off to the Vellet wall. There they did three out of the four routes on offer. Shiraz HVS 5b, Chinnon VS 5a and a probable Vdiff. They almost missed out on Shiraz but decided it was worth getting their feet wet for. Fantastic technical climbing.

Tom and David went to Trwyn Llwyd and climbed Twinkler, VS 4c.

Amy and Neville went in to St Davids - "Britain's smallest city", explored the catherderal and ate ice cream in the city centre.

On Sunday, Nick, Paras, Jason, Andrew and Chuck went to Carreg-y-Barcud. There they climbed a horrible HS called Yellow edge, then the lovely Metamorphosis HS and followed by the sustained Ethos HVS, Chuck complained a lot about how uncomfortable his feet were, but everyone got to the top without issue, and also Be Brave E1. They had time finish with Sinecure E1 5b before the tide came in. Paras was so put off by attempting to lead the route, that he decided to go walking on Monday. Then it was off saint Davids for a non tidal Vdiff - Jason's first lead.

Bea, Simon MC, AG, Neville, Simon A, Janet and Will all climbed at Caerfai Bay, whilst Amy sat at the top, admiring the view.

John Pattison and Alix think they found Square Bay, near Initation Slabs, and after abseiling in, they think they climbed a severe called May Day. However on redescending to climb another route and not finding any of the features in the description, wondered whether it was infact Square Bay at all, and if not, what had they climbed? Fortunately on the second descent John had lowered Alix off rather than abseiling, making the escape swift and safe. Phew. Went to find families and icecreams thereafter. Much better idea.

Tom took his girls Niamh and Orla for a spot of Top rope climbing on Carn Llidi above Whitesands Bay, while Eileen walked along the cliff with the Sarah Glover posse of girls.

On Monday, Alix and Tom went to Craig Caerfai where Tom led Armorican (VS4c) and Alix led White Wall HS 4b. Tom finished by leading something they thought would be Caerfai Crack (VS 4b) but was almost certainly a diff - nice though. Roll on new guide book - with pictures!

AG and Chuck went back to Carreg-y-Barcud where Ag warmed up with Sinecure and Chuck fell off leading Be Clever E1 5c - he had messed his ropes and his gear seemed to be following him up the crux!! A tactical decision was taken to jump before they all came out. After sorted out this mess he managed to do the crux moves. AG then lead Woodentops E2 5b.

Bea, Nick, Simon G and Simon MC went to Non's Bay, where Simon G did his first lead on a V Diff. A few other routes up to VS we also climbed.

Amy and Neville went for a cliff-side walk.

Paras, Jason, Andrew Furnell, Miriam, Francoise and Valerie also went for a walk, and built a sandcastle.

Most people then seemed to end up in St Davids for lunch/ice cream before a much more painless trip back home.

photo captions:

Some of the club have a reccommendation for where they would like to stay next time (ymca.jpg) Beatriz climbing the White Wall in Caerfai Bay (Bea climbing.jpg) Jacy abseiling into Porth Clais (jacy.jpg)

A climbing and camping holiday (an American WAG's perspective)

It was NOT a British Jones picturesque drive with a gorgeous comfy hotel at the end of the journey– rather a very busy M4/A48/A40 (”motorway”) leading to a farm field. In America it was Memorial Day weekend, here it was a bank holiday.

The destination: St. David’s, Wales. The smallest city in Britain with a population of 2,000– apparently considered a city because it has a cathedral. More like a town. A very small town.

Mode of transport: Dr. Antifacebook (aka Neville) drove for about 9 hours to get there. The first 3 hours covered about 50 miles. We then stopped at a “motorway stop” where people parked their cars on the road leading to it and walked to the small building with restaurants (Burger King, etc.), shops, and “toilets.” We were joined by Jacy, a Brazilian woman interested in joining Dr. A’s climbing club.

The club: Dr. A belongs to the MMC, a climbing club with frequent climbing trips in the UK and on “the continent.” There are also walkers who go on long (6+ hours) walks in scenic places.

Camping: When we arrived at St. David’s at 2:00 AM we pulled into a dark, wet and freezing cold farm ground with tents and cars at the outer edge. Dr. A put up the tent while I shivered and attempted to help. We visited the “basic” toilets to brush our teeth. In order to walk there we used “head torches” (flash light held on forehead with headband) and I could hear and feel bugs slamming into the light, or missing and hitting my forehead. We returned to the tent and although I had two sleeping bags and a blanket on top of me, my face was freezing the entire night. Luckily morning arrived and we packed up the car with the camping stuff– Dr. A loves me soooo much he booked the last two nights at a B&B, which had our own toilet and a shower, and heat, yayyy! To quote one of those real housewives of New Jersey: happy wife, happy life.

I really admire the folks in the MMC who go camping and climbing all the time. I will try camping again, preferably in warmer weather. In the meantime I apologize to every MMC member who saw me scowling that morning on the way to the basic toilets in the freezing cold. Did I mention that I shipped all of my warm clothes to England? I lived in the same fleece top and jeans for my first week here, and after camping my clothes were not smelling so great.

St. David’s: Dr. A and I checked into the B&B, which was located randomly on a country road surrounded by farms and nearby cliffs over the Atlantic Ocean, and next to an equally random Texaco “petrol” station. The owners were Welsh, but sounded Irish to me. Then we walked through this very small “city”, had lunch at a cafe, and visited St. David’s Cathedral. There happened to be a choir competition that weekend and lots of folks were around for it, taking place at the cathedral. We stumbled upon a rehearsal. The cathedral has been re-done after being attacked and demolished over many centuries, but still has that ancient feel to it.

St. David is the Patron Saint of Wales. It was strange to learn about a saint who wasn’t Italian or Latin. I don’t think my [Puerto Rican & Catholic] grandmother has his statue in her collection. St. David believed in self-denial and lived on a diet of water and vegetables, although I doubt soda and corn syrupy snacks were available in his time so I’m not sure how difficult that was. But miracles happened and they made him a saint. In fact, the Pope said that two pilgrimages to St. David’s is equal to one pilgrimage to the Vatican. It is, after all, located on the very western coast of Wales. It was sad to read about how this once-worshipped saint had his tomb plundered and cathedral battered by various invaders until the 19th century efforts began to rebuild and refurbish.

Our day ended with a visit to the pub in the town–er, city– center where all of the climbers, choir addicts and locals gathered for pints and food.

Climbing: The next day was a climbing day for Dr. A and I tagged along for a while. First we drove a couple of miles downhill to the campsite to meet with his fellow climbers. They all pulled on their heavy bags of ropes and gear, and decided to walk to the climbing site. We proceeded back up the hill from whence we came, and I was unhappy about that. Isn’t it more efficient to drive to the lot by the cliffs and enjoy more time climbing and with the view? Nahh, these hardcore climbers lugged everything up the hill, through St. David’s, and off to the coast. I was impressed and afraid at the same time that Dr. A and his buddies climb these sheer cliffs (some without helmets AHEM). I was even more impressed and intrigued by the people in wet suits who jumped off the cliff, swam in the cold water, and then climbed up the cliff without ropes or gear, all in the name of fun. The texting lingo “WTF” came to mind several times as I watched them.

I am not a climber. I never will be. I tried it at the climbing wall and it just doesn’t suit me. I don’t want to hang onto rocks on sheer cliffs with more rocks and/or hard ground to catch my fall below. I prefer to swim in the ocean, thanks. And so, I sat on the top of the cliff guarding bags while the climbers went up and down the cliff. It was very cold, so I put on Dr. A’s black sweatshirt with my black track pants to catch the sun. I looked like a goth teenager dreaming about death and vampires. Around 3pm I gave up on the cold and headed back to the B&B on my own, since we had already walked most of the length back there.

I remained vigilant on the country roads, barely big enough for 2 cars, with no “pavement” (sidewalk) and tall grass on either side– recipe for disaster and yet the Brits insist on walking on them! it would be illegal in America. It would be called vagrancy. And creating a hazard. I survived and stopped in Texaco for a newspaper, desperate to know about the outside world. I asked a random man for a recommendation of a newspaper that tells the real news, not gossip and fake stuff about celebrities being abducted by aliens. He suggested The Mail, and I will never read that one again. Total crap. I’ve since been told to try The Guardian. I am not accustomed to having so many newspaper options with so many different political stances.

Humo[u]r: That evening we returned to the pub for more food and pints and fun. I learned a new thing about jokes in the UK. It seems that every country has a group to pick on for being stupid. I don’t care for the stereotype, but I am always amused with the creativity. As it turns out, in the UK, they pick on the Irish. Whereas I grew up saying ” a Jew, an Italian and a Polack walk into a bar . . .”, over here the jokes are as the following example:

An Englishman, a Scotsman, and an Irishman are outside the Olympic arena, and they want to get inside but they don’t have any tickets. The Englishman picks up a long stick and walks over to the guard.

“What are you here for?” asks the guard.

“Javelin” says the Englishman, and he is permitted to enter. Next, the Scotsman pick up a piece of concrete. He walks over to the guard.

“What are you here for?” asks the guard.

“Shot-put” says the Scotsman, and he is permitted to enter. Next, the Irishman picks up a piece of a fence and walks over the to guard.

“What are you herefore?” asks the guard.

“Fencing” says the Irishman.

THE END (in case you didn’t get the punch line)

So, we all shared a variety of jokes until leaving and closing time.

Walking: On our final day, Dr. A and I embarked on a walk. Once again, I was confronted with walking for the sake of walking. I have done this a few times, and while the view is fantastic and it turns out to be fun, it still leads me to wonder why why why, walking for the sake of walking. Why do all the Brits go on and on about it? “Oh I love walking.” “What did you do this weekend? We went walking.” “Walking is so great.” etc. etc. I appreciate the health benefits, the view, etc. but the whole “walking is awesome and the best and so brilliant” thing has not caught up to me yet. However, the view really was awesome and brilliant. We walked on narrow paths next to the edge of the cliffs for a few hours, passing many people on the way– including a few climbers heading out with all of the gear again. This time they drove and parked nearby. Smart, in my lazy opinion.

Walks are adventurous. We don’t have stuff like this where I come from. Sure, there are some recreational parks with little trails that have old rusty work-out stations, and there are bigger parks where you can camp with bears in the vicinity, but in my life I never did these walks. I read about them, in all of my childhood books and fantasies, about walking through forests and fields where you might encounter elves and mythical creatures. You never know what is around the corner, where you might hop over stones or climb over fences into a new field or discover new flowers or a donkey (as we did last year) or a farmland shrine to Mary with offerings and a letter from a two siblings remembering their stillborn brother from 1944 (as we did in St. David’s). Dr. A admitted to me that as a kid you can feel dragged on the walks by your parents, but in the same way that Disney Land can be wondrous to kids of all ages, so can walks. Like I said, walking for the sake of walking is growing on me. Slowly.

I was conflicted over the weekend. Am I lazy? I reviewed how I spent my time these past couple of years while the climbers walked and climbed and camped and felt defensive. I did get up at 5am every weekend for several months to run up to 12 miles in order to train for two half marathons, which I completed. I did sit for the NJ bar and NY bar, and recently the solicitors exam, and that took a lot of work while planning for a wedding and international move. And, I did work very hard while I had a job. And yet, that walking thing… and the climbers walking with all of their gear (for fun! for shits and giggles!) and then climbing for hours, then walking back to the campsite, then going for a run, then drinking all night, and then doing it all the next day after sleeping in a freezing tent all night….. and then heading back to London to rise early Monday morning for investment banking and social working, etc. I thought they were nuts! Did this render me lazy?

I concluded I am not lazy, just sane.

Welsh and English: After lunch at a “city”center cafe we headed back to England. The road signs began with Welsh first, then English. Eventually, around Cardiff, they switched to English first, then Welsh. I became excited when I saw the first sign for London because I know that is a city. Then we crossed over the Seven Bridge, the Welsh/English border, and I saw the sign “Welcome to England.” It was not the New York/New Jersey sign in the Holland Tunnel but we were heading home.

by amyinuk

Vocabulary review  

::News, Births, Marriages & Other Slander

All the MMC best wishes to Andy E, Cheryl & little one and here is to them having a very happy move to the other side of the planet. Hope your ready for New Zealand and New Zealand is ready for you!? As we all know Andy E and Cheryl (now E) have been very long standing members of our club and Andy's assistance/knowledge and perseverance with the club website has been quite something to behold. Enjoy all those trails in the land of the long white cloud. No doubt one or two members will be calling-in in the not to distant. :)

::Club Information

Safety

There have been some fairly poor practices noticed of late. Climbing is dangerous and accidents do happen. Please look at this section of the website or try and go on a course if you have any doubts about your ability.

Copy

Deadline for copy for the next newsletter is August 7th or whenever I have enough content... Please send all copy to Robin newsletter. Please contact the organisers directly if you are coming on the meet. Don't forget it is the responsibility for the meet organiser to write the meet report and collect the images (send images direct to photos @ themmc.)