Odds.

So I haven't written in ages and this has always been a good place to process thoughts. Going in for a hip operation tomorrow. 80% chance it will fix everything and I'll no longer be in pain.

I suppose the 80% chance has created some great experiences for me. If success is guaranteed then what's the point? Most who've climbed with me will know that success is never guaranteed, most of the time I won't even get on what I want to try! I've always got a load of excuses!

Benwee Head from the bottom. Chances of success!?

But I always enjoy being out with friends and this past year has meant a lot of that. Easy routes that I've just enjoyed.

Up the Cromlech after work with the Boss! Photo: Paul Casey

Group ascent of Spiral Stairs. Photo: Paul Casey.

For once I wish the chance of success was 100%. 

Merica.

So there was half a days skiing which involved much hilarity as I repeatedly fell over. A day rock climbing and whiskey drinking where I climbed half a route as I didn't want to ruin my arms for when it got cold again.

Successfully not dying! Photo: Anne Skidmore.

Impatience got the better of us and Bayard, Elliot and myself headed over to Cathedral one morning. We weren't in a rush it was warm and not much was going to be in. We headed to the shade and Bayard racked up and headed off up a route. As he squirmed up a chimney and established himself on a ledge there was a loud crack above. Ice that had been hidden from view came crashing down the wall. Elliot ran left and dived under a boulder. I sprinted the other way as fast as I could in crampons and dived into the show. If I was going to die I didn't want to see it happen. Bayard looked down to see me lying in the snow. 'Well fuck we've killed the Irishman. That didn't last long!' I picked myself up and there was nervous laughter all round. Bayard abseiled off and we went for a walk up Mount Washington.

Chomulagunga - The Great Mountain (Mt. Washington) summit. Photo: Bayard Russell.

It was really strange being surrounded by trees that got progressively smaller and then disappeared. Coming down the Lobster Claw into the ravine involved a lot of bushwhacking. There really wasn't much snow and the ground was soft underfoot. I just assumed that's the way things were until Bayard turned around and said he didn't realise there was trees in the gully! Just an indication of how little snow there's been this year and how much it thawed.

Above the treeline on Washington. Photo: Bayard Russell.

I'm pretty sure there was a rest day somewhere then myself and Bayard climbed Goofers on Cathedral. I got lots of useful advice on ice climbing and hopefully will become a much better punter as a result. What happened next is a bit of a blur but I'm pretty sure they don't know what a spirit measure is in New Hampshire. 'Live free or Die' and all that. A brief trip to the bar that doesn't measure spirits was followed by some Fin Du Monde a 9.5% Canadian beer and then a house party. Apparently I was worried about offending people but wasted no time in telling them they were all 'fucking mental!' Luckily this went down well.

The next day was a rest day...

I climbed with Anne that weekend at Frankstien and Trollville. Accumulating some more experience and arriving early to dodge the weekend crowds.

Getting steeper on Standard Right. Photo: Anne Skidmore.

I also managed to take in Sunday night football at Mark Ritchie's. I think I almost get the rules.

Me and Anne at the top of Standard Right.

Another trip to Frankstien happened with the Jimmy the wandering Australian and then some mixed climbing with Michael the following day at Toco as it got progressively colder. Trying to figure the moves on an M9 with a load of clothes on and wooden fingers is hard. I was eventually persuaded to wear the down pants while belaying. After a couple of successful laps by Michael we sacked it off and headed back to the car, it was about -15 C.

Embracing down trousers.

My last day involved a trip to Cathedral. It was fucking cold. Hovering around -18 C the sudden freeze had done funky things to the ice. It was explosive, then so hard picks were just bouncing and then hollow. It was scary.

Heading towards the pillar on Repentance. Photo: Bayard Russell.

Bayard dragged me up repentance. Its a stunning line and one of the classic North American routes. The climbing was made harder by hard ice and it being my fifth day on I really struggled. Trying to be delicate with the fractured pillar all got a bit too much and I slumped onto the ropes from having a heel hook on the pillar, locked off on my left arm and my right pick just bouncing off. This was followed by the crack/ chimney that you can only get one leg into the ice on. At the belay 60m up I got to rest in the -18 C temperatures. I've never felt cold like it. It just sucks the heat out of you the second you stop moving. One thing's for sure; those New Hampshire climbers are hard! Luckily the last pitch was short and soon I was fist jamming my way around the capstone on the route. Totally wild! A short walk from the top had us on the way to get some well earned chilli and beer.

Sometimes it all gets a bit too much! Photo: Anne Skidmore.

The following morning I was up at half six to pack and make the trip back across the Atlantic to a rainy Wales. It was amazing trip. I couldn't have done it without the wonderful hospitality of Anne and Bayard. The local climbing community is fantastic, the people are wonderful and I'll defiantly be back. Hopefully it snows a bit more and gets a bit colder down here otherwise I might have to do a few weekends in Scotland!

A House in the Woods.

I've finally got a stamp on my passport visa pages. Approved to travel to the US. Happy days. Hours later I wander around arrivals. My phone doesn't work over here, I should've checked that. I can't see Damon anywhere, luckily he appears and we're on the way up north.

Currently I'm sitting in front of a log fire with two dogs at my feet. Bayard and Anne's house is an old hunting cabin still in the process of being converted. Its nestled in the forest. The rain drums softly on the roof. There's something relaxing about it. Its not meant to be like this, it should be cold. Currently I don't care. Its nice to be somewhere different. Beads of water are dripping off the tree branches. There's a lot of trees. I think I'm still dealing with jet lag. I'm not sure but I'd been up for twenty hours before I slept for six and got out on the ice.

The classic New Hampshire Shot at the end of day 1. I'm quite tired. Photo: Damon Clark.

Five minutes from the car and I'm swinging into a classic ice pitch. The Smear. Not really a smear and longer and steeper than it looks! I make the belay at the top with rope stretch. 'Wow I got a little pumped there.'

The Smear. A full 60m with a good steep section. Photo: Damon Clark.

Chia went next. Straight forward and enjoyable. I traversed left at the top looking to do a steeper finish but my arms were having none of it. I traversed back. I defiantly noticed the jet lag kick in. I was having to think about everything a lot more. It took me a while to set up a belay off the trees! I had to triple check everything. I was tired and that was it for the day.

Chia. Looks short but a full 50m of pleasant climbing. Photo: Damon Clark.

So as the rain continues to tip down its nice to be somewhere different and just chill out. Here's hoping for some colder weather in the next few days.