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GOclimb
Trad climber
Boston, MA
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Larry, that first Great Head pic (your wife?) is a great photo!
I looked, and sorry, I'm spent.
Too bad. In my opinion, you can never get too much great head.
GO
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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(your wife?)
Hah, no actually it's our daughter, at age 14. She had an adventurous childhood,
which is now continuing self-propelled.
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Tarbuster
climber
right here, right now
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This is fun stuff!
Chiloe,
I agree with GO's remarks concerning that first photo.
The classic female approach is nicely showcased: no brawn, all finesse and poise.
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MH2
climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 5, 2008 - 02:42pm PT
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Meanwhile, back at the ra...ouch! There is a seriously past-it phrase. Though Werner Herzog did resurrect the era in Encounters at the End of the World, in the course of suggesting that memory of humans will soon, say 10,000 years, exist mainly under the ice at the South Pole. Check out the frozen sturgeon.
Anyway, back on the Pacific side: sea stack bouldering on the Olympic Peninsula. Don't lose track of the tide, here.
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splitclimber
climber
Sonoma County
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some from CA coast
[img]http://puffnattie.smugmug.com/photos/165109561-L.jpg
[/img]
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MH2
climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 5, 2008 - 03:52pm PT
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Ah, California, how is the weather there?
Where all the days are sunny,
And all the skies are fair
(unlike, say, Montreal)
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MH2
climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 6, 2008 - 02:27pm PT
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...a sense of wilderness and isolation persists; the sea is moody, the moorlands mysteriously conceal a wealth of prehistoric relics, the farms are remote, and the place names - Mousehole, Chair Ladder, Woon Gumpus, Brandy's Zawn and Ding Dong - are those of an enchanted, make-believe world. The moors are covered by gorse, the headlands by thrift, honeysuckle and blackberry; the beaches are sandy and pleasant, and over all hangs the aura of the ending of the land.
Frank Cannings in Mountain 15, May 1971
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duncan
Trad climber
London, UK
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It's not all "Damp, sandy holds, small pro arranged carefully
behind fragile features, gale-force winds howling and waves thumping around me, ..."
Sometimes the sun shines (all picture taken today).
Unknown climber on Elysium, Boulder Ruckle.
Pete Debbage (see above) on Thunder Groove, Boulder Ruckle
Thunder Groove, pitch two.
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healyje
Trad climber
Portland, Oregon
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Yeah, while it may seem unlikely, that photo of Jim is my personal favorite climbing photo of all time - it so evokes what it means to climb and lead.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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duncan, thanks for another view of Boulder Ruckle (and say hi to Pete for me).
On the day I was there we saw no other climbers -- I figured it wasn't always that brisk.
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Another peaceful scene from Acadia (age 12).
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Mighty Hiker
Social climber
Vancouver, B.C.
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Speaking of all this, when was the first sea cliff climb? Would it have been the things that Crowley and Eckenstein did on the chalk cliffs at Dover in the 1890s? That is, Alesteir Crowley, and Oscar Eckenstein - the latter the father of bouldering, the crampon, etc? We might have to wrangle about what makes something a sea cliff climb, but I'd say starting at sea level, within spitting distance of the sea, would be a good start. Large rivers and lakes perhaps also acceptable.
Mick Fowler's stories of climbing at on the chalk cliffs in the 1980s and 1990s are classic.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Here is your answer in long form from Seacliff Climbing in Britain by John Cleare and Robin Collomb, 1973.
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MH2
climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 6, 2008 - 10:18pm PT
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I see that Peter Biven calls A. W. Andrews, "the father of sea-cliff climbing", and Frank Cannings refers to him as, "the originator of Cornish climbing."
A. W. Andrews wrote: "The sea forms unique climbing surroundings and the weather is good. There are no long walks to the crags and there is no necessity to be miserable in order to feel that the sport is being suitably indulged."
We saw a little sun last Wednesday.
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crunch
Social climber
CO
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Ahhhhh, Swanage. Indeed, sometimes the sun shines. . . .
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crunch
Social climber
CO
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Nick Buckley, trying the first ascent of a route near the far west end off the Swanage cliffs. Back around 1981.
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MH2
climber
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Topic Author's Reply - Dec 7, 2008 - 01:22pm PT
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Holy collapsing wave equation, Bartman!
Have crazy people tried to invent ways to experience that up close, like Project Grizzly or Niagara Falls in a barrel?
(nice pre-lycra 80s in the other)
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Chiloe
Trad climber
Lee, NH
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Crunch's wave makes our day at Ruckle look placid.
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Steve Grossman
Trad climber
Seattle, WA
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Nice shots Crusher!
How about Joe Brown and the 25' dip at Gogarth!?! Never heard about that incident.
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crunch
Social climber
CO
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This formation is called the Parson. It’s part of a pair of sea stacks called the Parson and Clerk, off the south coast of Devon. Most of the other tower, the Clerk, fell into the sea a few decades ago, so now it’s just the Parson, preaching to the waves.
This sea stack is near Teignmouth, a popular seaside resort, bustling with tourists, children and ice creams. To get close to the spire involves a long walk along a sandy beach crowded with dogs, frisbees and sunbathers. Right behind the beach is a railway line, the main line from London to the southwest of England, and every few minutes a train thunders by. At the far end of the beach, if the tide is low, and the sea is in a friendly mood, you can scramble around wave-blasted black rocks crusted with limpets, and find yourself in a different world.
The beach vanishes. Below, the fidgety sea burbles and sighs, slapping against the rocks. Above, unstable cliffs seep. The normal sounds—dogs, cell phones, cars, children, the background hum of civilization—are gone. Instead, there is a cacophony of screams, trills and squawks; sea gulls, cormorants, ancient birds, at home. They don’t like intruders.
The Parson was first climbed back in 1971 by Keith Darbyshire and Pete Biven. Darbyshire died a few years later, after slipping from the top of a sea cliff, from wet grassy slopes. He was a thatcher, a person who made the straw roofs on those cute picture postcard cottages.
The approach to actually get to the base of the Parson is through a sooty tunnel which carries those same express trains that have been rattling by every minute or so. Once inside the tunnel you run to a hole. To get to down the sea itself, there are some shenanigans involving lassoing a spike, a rusty old chain or some such. The climb, if you actually get on it, has three pitches. The middle pitch utilizes a feature referred to as the “Brown Spider.” Rumor has it that the last pitch, which ascends cobbles up the final spire, was protected on the first ascent by the judicious use of a kitchen knife stabbbed into the rock. The belay under this pitch has no anchor. The “descent” is a wild leap to the wet grassy slopes of the mainland.
Anyway, this is as close I have been. Anyone out there in Topoland been any closer?
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