Reeve's Roadtrip Blog

  2011: around the world in 9 months; 2014: twelve months career break; 2025: here we go again! First stop, California. Great climbing, great weather. Usually. Day 3. We watch the lightning then count six seconds before the thunder. Not far on the other side of the mountain. We've just met Levi at the crag and so far he is topping the charts for the most archetypal American climber we've met (mullet, 'tache, proclivity to say "awesome" at even the most mundane things). Levi tells us that the repeating storm systems are very unusual so we have arrived at a very fortuitous time to be able to see them. Not wishing to disappoint his enthusiasm, I falsify my agreement and set off on a climb, hoping the storm holds off for another ten minutes. It doesn't. The overhanging cliff provides the illusion of shelter for about thirty seconds, during which I have the misguided hope that I might be able to climb despite the rain. Then all hell breaks loose and there's icy...

After gallantly retreating from the Avellano Valley, it was time for Will and John to head for home. Dave and I had another week left in Patagonia and Dave had a suggestion. I was starting to feel pretty burnt out with adventure, having been away from home for 5 months at this point, and so I was looking forward to some nights sleeping that were not in a tent, eating lots of steak, and whacking the thermostat up so that I no longer had to wear multiple layers of coats every evening. Conflicting with this, I also desperately wanted to do some climbing, as the nearest I had come to doing any proper climbing was a bit of ledge shuffling at the bottom of the Avellano Tower. Dave craftily exploited this thread of motivation and suggested that we go for a four day visit to what is colloquially known as The Pyramid (I say colloquially, but what I really mean is that is what Dave John and Jim Donini call it, as they are the only climbers who know about it. The locals undoubtedly call it someth...

I first met Dave about 5 years ago. Our conversation skipped any niceties beyond the briefest of introductions as he cornered me by the desk at the Works and started telling me about a 350m sea cliff off the Shetland Isles that had only seen one ascent. Despite our position causing an obstruction to anyone wanting to actually pay to enter the wall, Dave's description piqued my interest. And I felt slightly intimidated by his wild-eyed gaze, an expression I would come to know all too well. He invited me on holiday with him to try and climb this cliff. Not knowing any better at the time, I took the immediacy of his invitation as a compliment and reciprocated this warmth with hearty agreement. Had I known (or more precisely, had I thought more carefully about this) that this "holiday" would involve climbing the loosest terrain (I can't bring myself to use the term 'rock' here) I have ever encountered, whilst taking direct hits to the face from fulmars, and being ...

A week and a half has passed since we got down. Waiting for my elbow to heal and the weather to cool down. We were in no way certain of trying again when we first got down, but slowly the thought grew into an idea, and then a plan. Yesterday I experienced the now familiar dread and ate too much, and then my alarm woke me at 2am. This time we've packed an extra few litres of water and some food, which allows a contingency day if we need more time on any pitch. And most pertinently, the forecast is about 20 degrees cooler. The familiarity of the first pitches helps speed things up, Freeblast goes smoothly and we both manage the 'hardest move on rock' first go, and make it up to the Monster in good time. Unlike on our last attempt we have plenty of time here, so I eat drink and carefully tape the fresh pink skin on my elbow. On the M.O. Once again, Dan has lead the last 6 pitches and hauled the bags so that I can be fresh. With a certain inevitability, the time comes. ...

For me, free climbing El Capitan is such a horribly obvious big ambition that it has probably been lurking at the back of my mind for the last 18 years, pretty much since I started climbing. Three years ago I had a really good trip to Yosemite with Dan which only made this ambition more immediately obvious. And now I've had the past two months climbing on granite, I'm in the Valley with Dan, and the forecast is for 30c and full sun. Good enough. Tuesday Today we pack and pre-haul the bag to Heart Ledges up the fixed ropes. A pair who are also hauling up the fixed lines drop their spare hauling device (who carries a spare hauling device anyway? only people who are likely to drop their hauling device...), and a team on an aid route above us knock off a basket ball sized rock which explodes into gravel just above us, but the trip to stash our bag is otherwise uneventful and we return back to camp 4 for a days rest. Wednesday The days rest is actually a days dread. I'm ...

The Needles present quite a dramatic change from the climbing, and indeed being, in Squamish. For a start, they are located at about 8000 feet elevation (I know I know... 2,400m altitude ), and nowhere near a highway. Having been at sea level for the past 6 weeks, the altitude had a surprisingly tiring effect. I visited here three years ago, and escaped benightment by the skin of our teeth (which I was soon to make a recurring theme, as I'll come on to). Thin Ice Lindy, very much by her own admission, is no bold hero. Indeed, upon being informed that something is 'fairly safe' or 'not too scary', she has been known to reply "well that's easy for you to say, but you don't have the middle name 'chicken'!" This not withstanding, I often find myself fascinated by her internal battles that often play out not so internally (climb up, climb down, curse, climb up, climb down, curse some more...). In reality, I think that even though a lot of her cl...