Blair's Admission

I guess it couldn’t last. The new week began and in came the grey, pushing the blue climbing days away. A few spots of drizzle put paid to bouldering down the Glen. Instead, this week I’ve been getting a serious serving of inspiration.

Tuesday afternoon proved dry enough for Blair and I to head up to Tunnel Wall. He was champing at the bit to get back on Admission (F7c+). Between goes familiarizing himself with this 30 metre uber-stamina crimp fest, I put in a few more shifts on Uncertain Emotions. For the first time I clipped the rope all the way to the top (there’s a lower off two thirds of the way up that we’ve always used in the past). Seeing quite how much more of this route I had to learn was humbling.

Meanwhile, the Fyffe was ready and willing for the redpoint, so I pulled the rope as he chilled out. What followed was another display of Blair’s incredible stamina, eeking out semi-rests on tiny edges, smooth and inventive footwork. Naturally, the ascent went smoothly, with only very minor use of the ‘Strathspey War Cry’ as he dropped into an undercut. I was filming him as he reached the top, and I called up for him to say something profound to the camera, all I got back was “I’m pumped”. You wouldn’t have known if you watched him. What amazed me further was what followed; having clipped the lower-off of Admission, he shouted down that he was immediately going to shift the rope across onto his next project: Axiom (F8a). You can’t keep him on the ground.

Blair leading Admission

As the week progressed, the amount of precipitation increased and we were forced under cover. Having heard about Alan Kimber’s new bouldering wall at his place (about 5 minutes walk from the Crucible) we headed down for a look. With the walls constructed by Scott Muir and the problems and circuits set by Dave Macleod, you couldn’t ask for a better set-up. Within a conventional garage space they’ve packed in a vertical wall, a slab, a hanging slab, a 60 degree overhang, a mezzanine area dedicated to stamina circuits, a finger board and two campus boards, plus the piece de resistance, a stereo that you can plug your ipod straight into. Psyche. It’s exactly what Fort William has been in need of for ages, and me too. I went down there for three sessions this week; the weather wasn’t being any fun at all.

As Saturday passed it turned into a beautiful afternoon, so Rob and I planned on another Uncertain Emotions session for Sunday. We reached the crag just as the afternoon sun was hitting it, warming the rock and warming our muscles. I was really inspired by the difference that having warm fingers made, and by comparing notes with Rob and altering a few of my sequences I started to feel like I was making progress on this beast. Familiarity brings efficiency, and efficiency means that I might make it as far as the fourth bolt (out of nine!) before I take a whipper. Seriously though, it’s funny how just a week ago I felt like it was going to be a seriously long-term project, now I’m not so sure. I’m not saying that it’ll go anytime soon, but I’ve got the slightest twinkle of hope that it will go one day. The moves are all there, I just need the endurance.

Looking down Uncertain Emotions

Seems like those stamina circuits at Alan’s wall are going to get some serious action.

Music

It seems that I've recently been possessed by trendy clubbers as I've become enraptured with the work of Kissy Sell Out, a DJ who seems to be at the more dirty end of dance music. I'm not really sure which ever-evolving genre his music/remixes/mixes fall into but all I know is I'm loving them. Maybe its grime, maybe it's krunk, maybe its electro nu-rave post-punk baroque. I particularly like the 'Garden Friends' tune on his myspace page. It reminds me of the Skins theme. Man, I'm so down with the kids.

Oh, Black Grouse Where Art Thou? A Trilogy of Musings

This morning I was up at 3.30, yesterday it was 4.30, and the day before that, and the day before that. When your job involves shifting your circadian rhythms to correspond with those of black grouse you begin to appreciate how many hours there are in the day. There's something deeply satisfying about being up before dawn, watching as the Eastern horizon gently fades in a wooded glen or heathy hillside. And I don't mind being in bed at 9.30 in the evening - it's not like there's much to miss in the cultural hot spot of Fort William. Generously, black grouse only lek until a few hours after dawn, so I'm heading home to a day of leisure by about 9.30. At the moment this leisure time involves bouldering in Glen Nevis, at the Ice Factor or the wall in town, or drinking lots of tea up in the crucible.

Most of the sites I have to survey are around Forestry Commission plantations in Glen Garry, Glen Kingie or by Loch Arkaig. Isn't life terrible? The remoteness of some of these sites has lead to a combination of very early starts, a fair bit of off-road driving and mountain-biking. It's pretty cool cycling along in the middle of absolute no-where in the cocoon of light cast by my head-torch. I guess some-one has to do it.

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What with all this mild weather we've been having, and following the warm afternoon sessions on the Heather Hat, I'm definitely getting that end of winter feeling. Sure, I'll head out if I can be promised good conditions and good weather, but by this time in the season I can't be bothered with powder wading, misery and suffering. In truth, I'm hankering for warm, dry rock, and as such, I'm secretly hoping for a huge thaw.

Here is me earlier this week doing the first half of Midnight In A Perfect World.

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A while ago I realised that I've never mentioned music on my blog. I'm not sure why. Possibly for fear of ranting, preaching or being boring. However, here goes.

I'm not really the 'muso' type, but I certainly appreciate a good, honest tune and listen to all sorts of stuff. I'm fortunate enough to have always been surrounded by 'muso' friends who readily burn me CDs and give recommendations, and they like real music. By 'real' music I mean music that has been created with some degree of honesty and integrity, regardless of genre or style, rather than the soulless shite voted for by a million gurning twats on a saturday evening - think X-Factor, think Take That, think Britney. I have strong feelings about this. Surely, everyone knows that saccharine-sweet lollipop mediocrity has no integrity. By it's nature it's bland and unoffensive so that EVERYONE will cough up their money for it and line the likes of Simon Cowell's pockets. Every time you see him sincerely say that the music he produces is good, you know a peice of him must die inside. Simon, buddy, we all know that it's utter shite.

That there was something more to be taken from music struck me for the first time when I listened to Mogwai's album Young Team, and the epic finale 'Mogwai Fear Satan'. It was then that I realised that music is much more than mere bubble gum for the ears. It's inspiration for activity, it's food for thought, it's a soothing balm, it's a frame for the big picture.

Or something like that.

Getting down to the silent groove: An Impromtu Silent Disco in Bristo Square. Edinburgh.

To illustrate my musical tastes I'll put itunes on shuffle and list the 1st 10 tunes to appear:
1. Solemn Thirsty - Malcolm Middleton
2. God's Small Song - Bonnie 'Prince' Billy
3. Grass Root's Horizon - Kinobe
4. Tone Guitar and Drum Noise - Fridge
5. Get a Hold- A Tribe Called Quest
6. (untitled) - DJ Shadow
7. Monkey Fist - Phillip Roebuck
8. Sore - Buck 65
9. This One or That One? - The Six Parts Seven
10. Bottle Rocket - The Go! Team

The Cheery Malcolm Middleton at Green Man Festival 2006

I downloaded LCD Soundsystem's latest album, Sound of Silver, the other day and it's still giving me the horn. Before I heard the whole album I thought that Sam Loveday's 'possible tune of 2007' 'Someone Great' was as good as it got, but then I heard 'All my Friends', and haven't stopped grinning and dancing round the kitchen.

Adios amigos.