Super Mellow at Mellow, by Stevie Horizontal Haston

Having a chat with Adam Ondra

The day was hard, running on empty I went bouldering with a gang of lads and lasses on perfect rough granite, sat, sometimes lied in the sun, and enjoyed the company of young alive people. I interviewed the Prince of climbing Ondra for a Canadian Magazine called Gripped in the late afternoon, which was interesting for us both I think, and a pleasure rather than a trial. I said hello to lots of friends from around the world but most famously to Chris  ‘Kinglines’ Sharma and his companion Dalia, they were mobbed by fans so I kept my conversation short, congratulated Chris on his finishing his route ‘First Round’. He said it had been a bit of a nightmare project, taking a lot out of him but finally worth it. I was a bit sad at the end of the day because I feel that the 9c standard is going to come very  very soon, and I will be a spectator, just a fan, but there you go at least I have helped. Both the Prince and the King were agreed that the Kingdom was indeed very fair this spring and the harvest should be bountiful and the people be content and prosper. Long live the kingdom of Climbing, it is huge and diverse, and encompasses everything beautiful in the world, or so I thought at Mellow in the sun with young people all-around. Bliss comes rarely to my hard heart but it doth overflow occasionally and I thank everybody who made me happy.     

The climbing festival of Mellow Bloc is over and was super good, super mellow....sympa as the French would say... a kind of Glastonbury music fest... but with a zest of Gorgonzola, and Mountains all around that should have been in the Lord of the Rings film. For those who where there it probably passed in a blur and they don’t need a report, it was hectic and peaceful in that crazy Italian way that I am relaxing into and growing to love. Of course the sun helped, last year it rained, which does dampen the spirits, but this year the sun pumped its energy into the people, and made them grow and blossom and smile. I had a job to do so it was a bit different for me, I had a slide show to do and was a little worried about it, it only had two bouldering slides in it, and the audience by definition was made up of boulderers. Indeed many people come to the festival who are beginners and come to learn, anyway you must understand my nervousness at my shows reception. It also came after the young prince of climbing Adam Ondra film presentation, it came so late in fact that I was inebriated, passed redemption, way passed ‘Go’ or ‘Stop’, but perhaps cosy in the arms of the night enshrouded gothic granite peaks. My work mates weren’t so confident or positive about my condition however, so five cappuccinos and a bottle of coke, were force fed into me. The show was over before I knew it, the slides a blur, clapping, happy smiley people around, visions of snowboarding Himalayan mountains, and bottles of beer. There had been some great reggae earlier and the night continued with more modern music in a huge crowded tent full of flashing light and young bodies writhing and jumping and throbbing. The only throbbing I did was in my brain, and it would surely get worse. But you know there is a price and I was going to pay it, this was a spring festival, a celebration as old as the history of people kind, shake off the winter, feel the sap rising, get going, Go big or Go home kinda thing. The night didn’t end for me, but the day did begin. The predawn is long at the head of the valley were I was, so I was up in the pale light all cold and fresh, and went running. I wove between huge Larch trees went through a tunnel between boulders a hundred foot high and went through flowered meadows, gawped at an array of waterfalls, and finally was at a high col, I sat down and surveyed my Kingdom, my big magic beautiful kingdom, the heavy cold breeze wiped tears from my eyes and told me to go back down. And so I did, down, down, down and finally croissants and a gallon of coffee my work mates were still asleep, all boyish and complain about being woken up.

 special thanks to Lorenzo Belfrond for his photos
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The Mirror of Simple Souls and the Sakuru Michi, by Simple Stevie Haston

The mirror tells the truth! I don’t look like a runner; I don’t look like a rock climber! I am in deep trouble, a bog of treacle. I sacrificed a lot to become excellent at rockclimbing and it worked, I am trying to do the same at running and it’s not working. I became a bit depressed, so I took time off work to get on track with the running. It worked in a way. I did 100 mountain miles and alotta up and down. I had some tendinitis in the ankle and my patella was a bit stuck at the start of the week. At the end of the week the patella was fine and the ankle was very bad. However I was really happy, lost 3lbs and felt like I was running, then I woke up and couldn’t get out of bed. Even slept most of a day and felt like I had a hangover. It was hay fever but I didn’t know it. 

Every year my hay fever gets worse but I am always in denial about it. Hay fever is one of the reasons I like high mountains, above 2500 meters there is normally no veg. It’s ironic that someone like me who adores flowers and talks to trees, has to avoid them. In Ariège where my house is I planted a Wisteria and it loved the south facing front wall of the house, now I can’t open the windows when it’s in bloom! In Ariège I spent a lot of time underground looking at rocks that look like flowers and grow without pollinating. In Italy where I am now the Spring is full blast, blossoms everywhere, it’s a riot of sparkling colors and I feel like I have a very serious illness. Anyway that’s life for you. I can’t do much about being disabled by flowers except laugh. So my other problem is I can’t shake myself outta my body at the moment, I can’t change it, I am just too big to be a decent runner. To become a good climber I lost a lot of muscle, and some of it seems to have crept back, behind my back as it were. It’s very annoying, as I really want to do a decent time in the Tor de Geants, and get a Lake District Bob Graham or a Welch Paddy Buckley. I have always promised myself a B.G and intend to get one, but it would of course be nice to get a good one. The trouble with this terrible desire is that I really need to lose about 10kg or more and I really don’t understand the how of it. To loose weight while climbing is hard enough but your calorific needs are small, to loose weight while doing 30 hours of running a week when you need to eat like a ravenous ogre is plane crazy. And at the moment because of the pollen I can’t run. So this last week I have walked to the super market twice total 8 kms and gained 3lbs!

The Sakuru Mitchi is a road race in Japan, and I always think about it when it’s on, but this year for obvious reasons I am thinking about it more. It’s 250 kms long and only a little up (1500m), it is supposed to be one of the great runs which is unusual if you think it’s not in the mountains or the hills. It’s a great run because of the spirit of the runners and the fact that it was inaugurated because an ordinary Bus driver planted 1500 cherry trees along the way! They do love their cherry blossom in Japan and so do I. Anyway it’s such a pretty story I thought I’d share it with you, perhaps you would like to do the run, or just gain some strength and hope from thinking of that lovely man planting those cherry trees along that bus route from one side of Japan to the other. If there were more Sakuri Mitchis and why not, the world would of course be a little more beautiful. It would of course have a bit more pollen in it, bad for me, but I would rather suffer than not have flowers and great inspiring stories like this one. I hope Japan is able to overcome its time of trouble and look forward to a better spring.    

A bit of Cycling history, by Stevie Haston

Stopping at a local pushbike shop to satisfy my love of fondling tubes and suchlike on a fancy swank velocipede, I was struck more than ever by the magic of bikes. It didn’t help of course that these bikes were Lapierre, sponsor for the last French team in the Tour. Lapierre bikes are works of art, I can’t afford one, but the guy doesn’t mind me coming in and dribbling over them. Anyway after this reverie of pleasantness it was out, and go climbing! But as a last delay I stopped off to put a few flowers at the little sculpture of Maurice Garin on the roundabout. Maurice was born here in Italy not far from where I live, went to France as an infant and won the first two Tours. Not many people know he was Italian and no one really wants to claim him as he was disqualified for excessive cheating in the second Tour, the first of many! Public morality being what it is, he is forgotten about, which I think is terrible. I don’t condone his actions and in later life he clearly regretted them, but there you go, it’s just a human thing. So the sculpture is simple and beau, it’s on a lovely verdant and attractive roundabout, and if you are a biking nerd I invite you to stop and have a look. In the first Tour the bikes were crap and the stages were way longer, sometimes no tarmac for long distances, no creatine, just sweat and saddle sores. I gave the brave little bronze cyclist a last fond pat, and went climbing.

There are many memorials along the roads in Europe commemorating dead cyclists. I stop when I can and say a hello. I have lived in two places on the Tour and know many of its tales, cols and epic cardiovascular battles, it’s part of my being in the same way that mountains are. Anyway among my many sporting gods that I sometimes pray to, are Merckx and Indurain, two former Tour winners. Indurain is my personnel favorite and at a Sporting meeting some years ago I noticed an old pro riders bike on a roped off podium. By all the gods it was the great mans bike! I immediately skipped over the rope and began stroking the master’s saddle, this odd behavior was quickly curtailed by a pleasant corpulent policeman, who on being told that I was a speaker and more importantly a fan went off and got me a glass of champagne. I have to report a failure to stroke Eddie Merckx bike. After tracking it down I am sorry to report because it was behind bullet proof glass! I hope this failure doesn’t disappoint you too much. 

Grivel Ultra Light Plume carabiner, by Stevie Haston

The Grivel Plume carabiner is one of my favorite bits of kit, its just plain useful and damn light. It is about 28grs, you can get biners a few grams lighter but they wont feel as ‘big’ in your hand, this is important if you have big clumsy hands like me or are just plain clumsy. If you use them in winter you will also find the gate open width very favorable to gloved hands. Nowadays people carry a lotta of very useful gear but in the end in all mounts up and things get heavy. The plume helps things stay light and real.

The Grivel Plume also comes as a screw-gate and which is so didi you just cant believe it! It comes in at just over 30grs for a screw-gate, so you might not even notice two of them at the back of your harness.

Each Plume is individually tested on a very controlled and computer calibrated machine. (check the video on www.grivel.com)

Melloblocco May 5th/8th 2011, May 6th slideshow by Stevie Mellow Haston

The Melloblocco international bouldering event is staged in the incredible Val Masino on May 5th to 8th, it’s an event not to miss. The great –and I mean size of houses boulders- are a sight to see, and for the enthusiast a joy to climb. The often rough granite is an excellent medium to climb on, while the scenery is a feast for the eyes. Each year this competition and fiesta attracts up to 2000 happy visitors, some come to watch most come to boulder. I have been invited to give a lecture/slideshow which pleases me as I wanted an excuse to visit the valley again, so if you have time visit my

show on May 6th. My slides will cover some bouldering, big rocks, and bigger mountains and I hope it will please diverse tastes, it normally does. In the past the Melloblocco has attracted some of the worlds best boulders and believe me it is a shock to see what they can pull on, probably even more of a shock to see them do stuff way beyond your level first time around! A visit to the area is a must if you are a boulderer but do not neglect to go if you love climbing granite single or multi pitch. When I went to the valley I thought the climbing comparable to Yosemite but without the crowds. There will be crowds on the weekend of the competition but away from the boulders it will be tranquille. Likewise if you like running trails you will be delighted with the high trails in very wild mountains. The valley has been used as a Sky running comp before so it is an exciting place for running giving high rough trails and lower valley mellowness. My fondest memory is of doing the classic route which looks like a stuck on boot, it was in my opinion better than Astroman. There you go, you can’t fail to have a good time.  

DESERT TOWERS a great book by Steve Bartlett aka "Crusher"

Just got a book written by Steve "Crusher" Bartlett, a flash of  some nice memories of Desert climbing, some epics, freeing quite a few towers!!!! A great book about the history of desert and towers climbing.. And if you haven't climb a Desert tower, in the Fisher or Monument Bassin you've missed something....Stevie will do a better review later...

Laurence

We look so young!!!

Crusher and Stevie, fully racked!

Sunset on the Fisher

Freeing the Hindu Tower.

Ruby's café

Honouree, and Honourable by Stevie Cry Havoc Haston

Being an Honourable Member was I always thought a bit of a veiled joke, the stress, in my mind, was always on the word Member. Kinda appropriate when thinking of Members of Parliament for instance. Anyway the Malta Climbing Club thought they would flatter me by creating me a lifelong, Honoree Participant. Great except the engraver wrote Honourable, when I pedantically pointed out the mistake they were dully apologetic, and insisted on having it changed, I adamantly refused. I preferred the Honourable to the Honouree, in fact I would even like a few more words tagged on, like venerable and then venerated. So we would in fact need a scroll, rather than a plaque! Reminds me of those ancient generals with tons of medals, which they clearly didn’t earn. Or perhaps those climbers who turn up year after interminable year at international meetings, harking, and barking on about trivial things they did a quarter of a century ago. I am now over a half century old, and I am tempted to ask will I ever do anything that is note worthy again? Hopefully I will do a few honourable things and so the Plaque I had from the Malta Climbing club will serve as a reminder to be Honourable, so thanks guys. Plus I think I don’t have the energy to be even mischievous, let alone, cause dishonourable havoc ever again.