Day 18: Beautiful Climbing

Shutting the windows before going out for our last day of climbing.
This is the color of their 12pm sunlight!

It was a beautiful day to go climbing.

The sun was out, but the temperature stayed within t-shirt weather. It was as if le Midi (as locals would call the “south of France”) was taunting us to rip our plane tickets apart and stay on for at least one more week. ‘Don’t go! Just a few more days…The weather is better now,’ it called to us. ‘You can hop on harder routes; friction is at its best!’

La Capelle, the sandstone bouldering spot that was 10 minutes away by car, felt like an enchanted forest. We had climbed in it almost two weeks ago, but this particular day, with a cooler breeze in our midst, the sunlight seemed to gently caress branches and leaves instead of ramming through them. The rock was cool and dry. With zero humidity, suddenly our skin stuck to them like hook-to-loop Velcro. Chalk dust danced in the air.

Or maybe I’m just being overdramatic because it’s our last day of climbing in France.

Oh, but what a good day of climbing it was. Surrounded by new and old friends, mostly our age group but also with one who is over 50 years old, we were able to try several boulder problems together, and even work on individual projects. La Capelle has a lot to offer regardless of one’s climbing level, and one doesn’t have to walk far to keep trying new lines.

Best of all, the landing is always flat!

Caro's 15-foot-ish warm-up

My version of warm-up ;)

Lucas sticking the one-hand dyno! (Angle not so good though, sorry!)

I was ecstatic to complete a high-ball, and it was awesome to watch Lucas – who doesn’t get to boulder very often – land a big dyno after attempting it several times. Miel and Caro challenged each other on friction-based problems, while Lucas and I had our skin grated working on an overhanging line that put our full body weight on the fingers.

Seriously squeezing out what we can from the trip, we continued our traditional climbing education by putting James’ lessons into practical application. Amazingly, La Capelle had this to offer as well: Entry-level trad routes with a few bolts, allowing trad newbies like us to practice placement of cams and nuts.

As if the entire experience wasn’t unique enough, we had a professional photographer in the group, documenting our fun afternoon!

Miel's trad climb gets some photos from Raf!

Before the day expired, we had to say our sad goodbyes to a couple of friends, including Raf and Seb. In the evening, we feasted on dinner prepared by the next-door neighbor pizzeria, as Caro and Lucas suggested things for us to do in Paris (our destination the following day).

We also mused where our next exploit can possibly be (maybe two years down the road...)

It truly is exciting when you let the mind wander and dream.

Just like how I let the images carry me away as I described La Capelle.

As “exaggerated” as it may sound, though, I honestly prefer to preserve my memory of this little bouldering gem – and the entire climbing experience in le Midi – in that manner: As a magical two weeks in my life where the discovery and friendship was all that mattered. A time when all senses were heightened, and I just soaked it all in.

Oh, what a beautiful gift you are to me, climbing.

You boulder, you. (Hindi siya nagpatapos. Huhu).

Sharing a La Sportiva video of James and Caro climbing in La Capelle. You judge the area for yourself! ;)

Day 12 to 14: TNF Mountain Festival

Screen shot from the 2017 TNF Mountain Festival website

We didn’t exactly hike and run alpine trails, nor took up any outdoor photography and cooking clinics. But if taking our breath away was one of the festival’s objectives, I’d have to say it was a great success.

The weekend went by in a blur. Not because it was pissing rain. Not because everything happened so fast. I think it was more because the experience was so distinct, that it's as if all my energy went into trying to soak in each moment and to chain down every memory.

Like when we arrived on the first day, and I met the TNF Athletes one by one. Miel mentioned that the festival was an opportunity to mingle and learn from the professional athletes directly. It’s one thing to have a chance to speak to them, but to actually join them in their playground and receive advise and encouragement is a different kind of education.

This started from the day of our arrival, when the restless group didn’t want to stay cooped up in the festival tents. The rain poured the whole morning, leaving all outdoor areas unclimbable for the day. One open invite was all it took for all the climbing athletes to head for an indoor climbing facility in the neighboring village, for a little bouldering session before dinner.

Name that head/back ;) Sorry, nakaw na picture lang kaya walang nakaharap!
But in this photo are: Stefano Ghisolfi, Jacopo Larcer, Iker Pou, James,
Mathieu Maynadier, Siebe Vanhee, Hansjorg Auer

TNF Athletes admiring the Eiger and enjoying the surprise arrival of the sun....
scroll down for the Eiger's own photo!

The succeeding days were no different – Miel and I signed up for climbing two days in a row, and were able to share routes and exchange notes with the athletes assigned to our activity. With all the enthusiasm and motivation passed on to us, I'd say "rubbing elbows" is an understatement!

Climbing at Lehn crag in Interlaken (City)

The festival venue also took our breath away. Lauterbrunnen is a valley situated around the Swiss Alps, surrounded by towering rock walls, waterfalls, and alpine lakes. Lauterbrunnen, in fact, has 77 waterfalls, the biggest one being 300 meters high! Resting at the bottom of these rocky cliffs are dense pine tree forests, luminous green pastures, with grazing hairy cows and goats, and farm houses.

TNF Mountain Festival location map

See one of Lauterbrunnen's waterfalls on the right!

Before reaching Lauterbrunnen, one can also pass through its neighboring village Grindelwald, a more popular destination for winter tourism. Equally picturesque, and also with its old-country village vibe, Grindelwald gained popularity for being a jump-off point for various alpine activities such as climbing the Eiger, a glaciated mountain having the biggest north face in the Alps.

When we saw the sun on that first afternoon in Switzerland, it felt as if it was the Eiger itself that shoved away all the clouds to majestically stand in front of our faces, calling our attention to its grandeur.

Outside the Grindelwald climbing gym, and behind it, standing proud and tall is the Eiger

The Eiger's north face, with the Grindelwald valley at the bottom

To wake up every morning and zip open our tents to a view of these pine-tree-laid cliffs with alpine ridges in the background...it made me whisper a thankful prayer each time.

A good morning photo, from my side of the tent. This is around 7:30 AM.

It's no joke to mount an event like this. I can imagine the logistical challenge, because the festival caters to a variety of activities: Rock climbing, walking on glaciers, trail runs, night hikes, river kayaking (in freezing cold water, argh!), paragliding. Equipment for all of these were made available for festival participants, as well as transport services to shuttle them to the different activity locations. 

Then there is the festival "headquarters" itself: Big domes for the main stage and receptions, eating halls for the 800+ participants/staff/volunteers, product and demo tents, plus large camping areas and eco-portalets and showers with hot water. It seemed like a lot of work for the organizers, and I must hand it to them for handling everything smoothly and professionally. The staff were always helpful and smiling, and the TNF community leaders always encouraging and ready to cheer the crowd on.

Participants lining up for their chosen activities

Dinner at the "mess hall"

Instructions for the eco-portalet

At night, especially, one can really appreciate all the warmth brought about by the glow of the table candles, lamps, tents, and big domes put together. 

Finally, just enjoying the outdoors with new climbing buddies. We met people from Poland, Switzerland, France and Spain. We shared ropes with them, gave and received tips on climbing, exchanged laughs and cheers in the crag. 

Come Saturday night, the Main Tent erupted with the heat of the crowd dancing to a live band's reggae beats. It was a celebration of new friendships forged over a love for the outdoors.

  

"Brought to you by The North Face, this is a long weekend that will leave your muscles tired, your spirits high, and your hearts content." Advertising copy captures it well *clap, clap*. 

But if I must add something, it's that being in the Festival also left me overflowing with gratefulness, and a desire to pass on the fruitful experience to others. The question now is, how to do it? I suppose that's a new adventure to take on.

Day 10: Perfect Conditions

As I was chopping some garlic and onion for dinner, Caro asked Miel: So which one is your favorite crag (amongst all those we visited)?

We've gone north, south, east and west of Connaux, so far!
See the pink House icon for reference :)

“Entrechaux and Gargantua,” Miel answered within 3 seconds.

Caro followed up: How much of your decision is due to the area being favorable to your climbing style?

Ah, these conversations. They are perfect for wrapping up over 1 week worth of climbing, including the last one today, having spent a full afternoon at the crag. Our fingers were worked, legs and toes beaten from hiking/biking/so much face climbing (well, at least, Miel and mine were!), and bodies finally getting a breather after battling wind and cold all afternoon.

I really liked the crag today, which answered Caro’s question. I enjoyed the long routes; the technical, face-climbing style with a range of hand and foot placements (nice assortment of little pockets and finger jams in all directions, and not perpetually pulling down on cracker-thin edges); and the sheer exposure.

The approach to north face of Les Dentelles de Montmirail.
25 minute hike up!

It was, for me, a good mix of what motivates me to climb: To behold the world from a point of view I’ve never seen before, and in a process (climbing a route) that runs for roughly 10-20 minutes, I’m able to witness vivid, internal dialogues between two sides of myself: The sluggish vs. the driven, the brave vs. coward, the care-free vs. the pragmatic.

During these short periods, I get to know myself a little better, and get to widen my comfort zone a teeny, tiny bit bigger. Add the unfamiliar weather condition as a factor, and I was kept at my limit the whole time, making the voices in my head louder.

And how excitingly, unfamiliar the weather was today! In a previous post I talked about the windy afternoon we spent at Gargantua, but today was at even higher intensities and prolonged periods. Because the crag was facing the north, it escaped sunlight the whole day, not giving the rock any chance of getting warm. The group had limited down jackets, so we had to share; whoever wasn’t climbing would have to lend his/hers to whoever was not climbing (or was belaying). At times when the wind got really strong, we ended up using the rope tarp/bag as a shield.

It was great lesson on my (our) low tolerance for gust and chill, and as James said, a fitting “warm-up” for what we would encounter in Chamonix (further up north of France) and in Switzerland, to which we were heading to the next couple of days. And in all seriousness, we were indeed lucky that the coldness was just exactly bearable, otherwise, we would have ruined a day’s worth of “perfect climbing conditions” for the whole group!

Always in the shade

Maximum cover

Everyone trying to catch the patch of sun down the trail

On the other hand, it was also a great lesson of how fantastic friction can be. This is the most I’ve climbed in cold weather, and I was pleasantly surprised how my fingers and rock shoes didn’t slip on nibs and edges that seemed too small to stay on to. There were a handful of moments when my hand would be numb, and I didn’t know if it was from the cold or from my pump, but I’d tell myself to keep crimping anyway. Many times, they would just stick.

Local crusher Coralie, demonstrating the old-school face climbing style

The night grew on and dinner topics evolved. How people handle break-ups differently, film recommendations for downloading, the awe for ultra-runners (because we just don’t have the patience for extended periods of suffering). At one point it was about how Miel and I became a couple (next topic, please). But I think we ended with guessing the countries of origin of chocolate manufacturing companies (Hershey’s, Cadbury, Nestle?)

Opinions varied and preferences ran at wide ranges of degrees. Despite the differences, I think we can agree on one thing: A home-cooked meal, paired with good wine and shared amongst friends, is the perfect condition for these kinds of conversations. And none of us would have preferred to end the day in any other way.

Day 8: Tasting the Local Climber's Life

In the Philippines, sport climbing is mostly seen as "extreme" or for the "hard core". With the limited number of indoor climbing facilities and established outdoor areas, as well as the cost of equipment and gear, some may even say that it's for an exclusive, privileged group.

Filipino climbers know how differently climbing is viewed in our country and within Southeast Asia, compared with the sport's status in France/Europe. I've come to realize, however, just how true and real this is as we spend days after more days climbing around the south of France.

Rock climbing here is not a "special" sport, nor for the elite. You don't need any distinct training, access to a climbing gym, or expensive equipment to take it up. It is an average person's activity: If you weren't introduced to climbing by your parents (who grew up doing some form of mountaineering or outdoor sport themselves), you likely took it up on your own by looking for a climbing club in your village, and started from there.

Climbing here is a "cheap" sport. You just need to buy quickdraws, rope, rock shoes and a chalk bag, and you're all set for over 1-5 years (depending on how well you take care of them). Equipment are reasonably-priced -- they are locally manufactured, after all. Gear upgrades are not fashionable (and completely impractical), unlike how one would constantly upgrade bike parts or replace mountaineering/alpinism apparel and hardware due to wear and tear.

You don't need gym memberships because rock is everywhere. You don't need to hire guides to take you to the crags because roads and trails are developed and safe. And because crags are all around you, and the sun sets later during the summer, half-day trips are possible all the time.

Such was the morning we spent in Russan. After driving less than an hour southwest of Connaux, we found ourselves atop another one of the mountain ridges, in a parking lot with other cars. The place was apparently another one of the many trail-laden mountains where locals hike, run or bike. Another interesting set of visitors, we learned, were rifle-carrying hunters, looking for peasants that roamed around the area.

Today was leisurely climbing with a few other friends: Aside from 17-year old Coralie, in the group was another single 25-year old guy, and a dad with his 12-year old son: All climbers, just looking to spend half-a-day outdoors.

Met up with new friends

It was such an easy, 20-minute walk from the parking lot to the climbing site. We followed a wide, treeless, gently-sloping pebbled road, before hitting a narrower trail with bushes to our left and right. You hit a sort-of cliff which marks the end of the trail, and the start of an easy descent down small boulders. It turns out, the approach is from the top of the cliff, and so we just had to walk down one side in order to meet the vast wall of gray, brown and white streaks: Another huge limestone "cave" that ran for over a 1000 meters.

Fennel just grows along the path. Syempre, tinikman ko!

Going down the side of the cliff

Gray, brown and white streaks

Halos walang katapusan...

The group was looking forward to a cloudy day, since the crag is said to become an oven when the sun is out. However, weather is not always as you expect it to be, and the sky remained cloudless, limiting our climbing time. For me, I chose to keep my climbs at an easy pace, too, setting up a 5-ish toprope for our new friends, and trying out just one 6b and 7a. The others worked on some 8's.

We cheered each other on as we hopped on harder routes, and gave "beta" (tips or information about a climb) when solicited, and checked each other on safety. 

Not long after, it was time for "lunch!"

The "solar oven" crag, according to Google translate

Crag lunch -- baguette, ham, chorizo and some tapenade

As the climbing session ended earlier than expected, we had extended time for the day's other agenda: Visiting a vineyard!

We thought we would only get shown around the fields and facility, but to our delight, we even caught a part of the production process as it happened: How the harvested grapes are "sucked" from the grape "depository" (sorry, not familiar with terms!) into the cellars where they will be aged.  We were able to peek inside the cellars and taste samples straight from the tap. The host/owner even obliged us to taste their wines in different stages of the aging process, and at the end, an actual wine degustation.

Inside the cellar

About four hours for climbing, two hours for wine-tasting (and buying, haha!), less than two hours total of driving, and there is still time left to cook dinner. 

I suppose this is the normal pace of a climber in the south of France: A bottomless list of areas to visit, complete with the discovery and scrutiny of each area's pros and cons. Weather, though never 100% predictable, is manageable; if you're not too picky, for sure you will still be able to try a few routes due to the sheer quantity available. People of all ages know how to climb, and the time needed to get a dose of rock is not a lot -- making it so easy to invite a friend for an outdoor session (instead of an outdoor "trip" that will consume the whole weekend). 

I'm only ecstatic to get a taste of it.