by Rowan » Tue Apr 26, 2011 6:48 pm
That's funny, fuchsl - I just saw that boulder yesterday for the first time. It really is a beaut but - like so many rocks around here, it has a couple of easy ways up that are pretty much scrambles, and then a beautiful sheer face that's just .... blank.
Having spent the winter exploring this vast area near Terence Bay, with mixed results (lots o rocks, but lots o lichen), I decided this W/E to check some 'blank' spots on the coast. Sunday I hit, if not quite the motherlode then at least an auntlode of fun problems near Pond Cove (I'll probably post something about that soon and submit myself again to the ridicule of the community)... so anyway yesterday, encouraged I decided to see what *this* area had to offer. For anyone who doesn't know, it's near the Marine Research Station at Sandy Cove which would more aptly be called Rotting Seaweed Cove. It is a gorgeous, serene spot for a walk, for sure, probably one of the nicest places I've seen in the HRM, with that huge shield of land sloping into the sea, but not much in the way of climbing. There were some nice looking short faces out at the point, probably some good edgy climbin', but close to the water so with the seas so high they were getting battered.
Anyway, re your original question, I learned from my Terence Bay experience that a rock becomes a *problem* when you see it from a vast distance and, intrigued, you return again and again, following obscure trails just trying to figure out how to get to it, then finally having touched this rock, your rock, you ponder its holds and lines of weakness, you go home and dream of it, sculpting it in your mashed potato at dinner, and in the breaks in the winter weather you trudge out to brush off its lichen, rappelling down from marginal, inverted anchors to do so, and then with your rock brushed and gleaming and pristine you persuade a friend to hike out and share in these magnificent first ascents, and finally after all this effort and energy....the opposit of triumph: it's just too big, too clean and too perfect, it's difficulties too weird and high off the ground for an athlete of your meagre abilities to be able to climb.
My two cents. Be pretty sure you can climb the thing first. Don't count on there being ideal crimps lurking under that lichen, begging to be crimped on because there usually aren't, dammit.