I have big issues with crack climbing. Mainly because I don’t really know how to do it, so there’s lots of grovelling instead of technique, and lots of pain of the wrong kind, the pain of skin parting from my hands and arms. So today we – the Victorian Climbing Club – went to Eastern Peak, about 15 minutes north of Ballarat. It’s on private land, and doesn’t get much action, but the owner is pretty cool and likes to do a bit of climbing himself. Imagine having that for your backyard. The rock is granite, and mostly very good, ranging from smooth and grippy to large crystals eroded to super-positive edges and cracks. And cracks.
The day was either misty, windy, drizzling or just grey, but it held together enough for about 15 of us to bang our way up three of the more notable areas, mostly slabs but for me there was an idiotic desire to do the one overhung crack. Overhung arm-swallowing skin-eating knee-jamming ridiculer of non-crack climbers, only 10 moves at the most, but packed with feel-pathetic goodness, and the thank-god jug at the top just rubs it all in.
So I haven’t climbed much lately, even bouldered, but still felt pretty good on everything else. It reminded me why I do it, it’s a head-game I play with myself. In two weeks we go to the Grampians for some harder stuff. I think I better find more time to boulder during the week.