Titanic Barracuda By Stevie small fish Haston.

Making routes is sometimes tougher than actually climbing them,  people don't know how tough, they don't care, they just do routes, and think they magically appear. There is talk of an App to Malta climbing being done by a guy who hasn't got his hands dirty, if this happens I will be very cross, as it is cheating the guys who did all the hard work. If this guy includes Gozo where he has done zero work, I will be titanically pissed off !

 a belay for equipping!

A few years ago an App was done for Maltese climbing by some Spanish lads, I asked them not to include Gozo, and they complied with my wishes, as they had done nothing there! At the moment there are at least 200 new routes on Gozo that will get into the next guide, they can't get into an App as I am the only one who has the info. These include new routes, old routes, and recordings of Fishermens, and salvage mens routes,  probably closer to 250 routes extra. There's a lot of work been done as well as path cleaning, and maintenance, some of which was done by me, but also by Jeff and Simon from Malta. Anyway, I don't like being ripped off, OK! 

 Solly finding he has fore arms made of wood, in sector Vortex, a new sector with, 4 new stellar routes that haven't been recorded.

The new guide book should be very good especially for Gozo.

 Young Dustin, doing a few warm ups before his route!

I am still hurting from a broken thumb, and a few other minor things, and a bit too fat, but feel my old energy coming back. I soloed a new grade 6a today, it's funny, but I have been soloing 6a now for almost my whole climbing journey. It is a pleasant surprise to be soloing 6a routes at 60-I feel happy about that. 6a is 5.10 for you guys in Trump Land.

 a slightly overhanging route, I had a puke due to spinning around while jumping today, first time its happened.

My friend Solly did one of the unrecorded routes today, it was a snaking groove on lovely marble like rock, he was stoked, but it's Trad protection and even that is not very good, it's a hard lead. One day it should be a clip up, so other people can enjoy it.

 the rock is real pretty, this is a different shade, its hard to know whats going on down there, you lose touch with everything.

Two beers down the gullet, I feel happy, but tired, lots of german climbers here, no english, whats up guys?  

this will be one of the best routes on Gozo, it will feel a bit like a french route, but with that added zest.

While Solly was climbing there was a huge ball of Barracuda behind him swirling around, it was very spectacular. I wanted to get in among them, swimming in a big vortex of Barras is an incredible experience. These Barras looked very big though, first time I have seen big Barras this big Balling. It looked a bit scary. Anyway guys hope your all fit, and being good and having fun.   

Death by Water, by Stevie thirsty Haston.

So Solomon,  and Stevie went climbing, sounds a bit like the Chuckle Brothers play politics. The result was both spectacular, and hilarious.

 Solly after taking a whipper.

Solly wanted to get involved, he wanted to dig deep, he wanted to feel the rush, etc. What he got was really high blood pressure, massive bulging biceps, veins looking like twisted knots, and a heart that I could see from the belay stance threatening to blow its way out of his chest. 

 Houston we have a problem.

Solly's first fall nearly broke his legs, he was jumping for a big water warn bucket, when the majority of his body seemed inclined to remain where it was. The result was a stutter just a half inch before the bucket, then an infinitesimal static shutter frame of a man poised, with the guillotine starting its decent towards his neck! I quickly took a bit of rope in, and lent as far back on the belay as I could.  It was close, he bounced onto the ledge, I was a relieved, impacted femurs into the pelvis are not my speciality.
 

 Solly begging me for a rope to be thrown to him!

After Sollys heart rate came down from over 200 beats per min, or was that a second,
and I stopped laughing, he went back up! I had naturally told him off, and this time he put a few more wires in! He did the jump, and proceeded into, or should I say voyaged outwards in a Bomb bay chimney of infinite beauty. 

 Stevie checking it out.

The route because of it's nature and gear, was more than problematic, the rock is so rough that rope drag became an insuperable problem. Solly was boxed, beaten, bruised, and actually relieved to come gliding down the blue line to the inky silken convoluted wateriness  which was a bit out in space, but away from the muscle busting torture device.  He did look like he needed a nap.

Stella routes here there are in abundance.

I had a go, and it was much harder than it looked, bridging, changes of positions, and slow climbing, were something was always maxed out, and tense. The escape out of the top of the Bombayment was tricky, and had a distinct lack of footsies! The remaining easy bit took familiar ground on large but sometimes suspect concretions of  fossilised sea gull shit and vomit, or was that frozen Nouvelle Quisine spray painted gray with sand on top. Anyway I opted for no protection to lessen the mounting rope drag. At the horizontal top, taking in the rope was like a heavy gym session, bent over rowing with a sandy thin tope is not nice! Anyway to cut a long palaver short Solly survived, and we drank a lot because we were very strangely thirsty after our salty experience! 

Embarrassing pre life, by Stevie "new man" Haston.

Life goes by, some times you can't quite remember if you did something, or not, things are deniable, but sometimes there's proof. There's thought crime, might as well get hung for a flock of sheep rather than a single lamb, eh? I bet your life is perfect, you probably haven't left your gps at home on your 10 km run, and lost your camera, and where then asked to prove you were on a summit-you don't know what I am going on about do you? Well that's as it should be-this blog is for me to have a laugh, or should I say Laff, as in no poxy Upper received pronunciation, ta very muchly!

Who are these two guys, what are they doing, where are they?

As I am not Cameron, I luckily don't have to lie about my Hampton Wick (that's dick to you folk born out of hearing from the now defunct sound of Bow Bells) being gobbled by a dead sheeps head. However occasionally I do find some weird photos turning up which I really don't remember them being me. There's those photos where I am skinny and fit, they seem so long ago, then there's those embarrassing fell asleep at a party photos where people did home made tattoos on your private parts. Anyway as I am a week away from reaching the respectable age of 60, I herewith, and hereby claim not to have ever been me.  

9a!!!!

just tape over it and forgot it happened!

Climbing kit not normally used at climbing walls.

Last exit from New York, by Stevie Trump Haston.

Since everybody is naffed off with politics I won't mention it, not once. Nuclear first strike was a route we did a few weeks ago its 6a+, but is immaculate. Classic it is,  do this you must, at the moment its a bit of a deep water solo, and a bit pokey at that. 

 two routes at the moment a 6a and a 6a+ , both high quality.

Object of today was to try to get in an overhanging chimney with a closed exit. Couldn't knit my way in, it looks easy but as scary as flesh eating zombies in a phone box.

 Solly is here visiting, he is keen.

Need to do these three remaining lines, one will be hard, I reckon 6b, 7b+ and 8b. All intergalactic.

 trying to get in to a steeper bit of cliff.

They will be of that special genera, too scared and impressed with the situation to pull or use your feet properly.

 Pondering the imponderable.

I some how can still look like I am watching a boring cricket match, when looking at one of the most beautiful routes I'ave ever seen.

 Alex checking what up, or down.

Its a bit steeper down there, 45° overhang!


Need to get going, just what I need to get me over the nonsense that is populist politics.

Injuries and elections, by Stevie unimpressed Haston.

There are elections going on all over the place, if you don't think this is important, you are very stupid, and that's what the people in charge want. You are not supposed to bring up people's intelligence, or lack of it, but gee whiz, vote, and seriously, just vote for the party that will look after you. All will be good.

doing laps on a 7a, how the mighty have fallen.

There's lots of Germans, and Swiss climbing here, and Americans, very few people from the UK, what does that tell you? It tells me the people from my old country don't have money!

 My fingers are showing a few dings, these are a pair of index fingers, you might understand that picking my nose with the right hand one is a bit harder!


I haven't done a blog for a while, although lots of interesting things have been going on. A girl did La Rambla, which very much impressed me, it's a 9a+, and has broken many men, and boys! Another girl did Ground Zero in Italy 9a, which I tried a lot, and never really got close to doing, she was a dwarf too, and I used to moan about my reach on it!

 My paired thumbs! I think the right hand one is broken , it hurts more than listening to Mrs UNELECTED May speeches .

People are doing 9a's every where, and Onda the best climber in the world has done very well recently, with a few in a week, and 9bs to boot! Very good everybody, I am startled, impressed, and bamboozled! I am not equally impressed with politicians, their lies, false promises, and corruptibility seems to have reached epidemic proportions, with global annihilation on the menu again. Well gee thanks guys.

Trimming the verge, I am not a vicars son, daughter, or illegitimate progeny of any sort. 

Anyway, I am doing what I normally do, I climb, therefore I still am. I also have a blown ear, which means I am deaf in my right ear! This doesn't mean I am deaf to what the Right is doing, unlike a large proportion of the electorate of Europe, and America. Please guys and girls get your shit together, and vote for central parties, peace niks, parties of the left, but not money grubbing, right wing, thieves, war monger's , lunatics, and people whose surnames start with a month in them!  

Easter rabbits eggs and religion, by Stevie Haston.

There were the usual Gozo easter traditional religious processions last night, and to be honest I watched a Hollywood bit of trash called the Mist instead, it somehow felt more appropriate, in a world were we just pay lip service to kindness, and concern, and instead blow people into itzy, bitty pieces, for no good reason. 

 A sea window were you can't see the 200 tourists with selfie sticks on the other side dropping litter and making noise!

We skipped climbing on the window today, because there were simply too many tourists around, tripping over themselves, and throwing litter around. We went a bit further, and the noise was snuffed out by the sound of the sea surging around in a cave beneath.

 Belay guard.

The rock in this region is so rich in holds, and colour, its like a hallucination, it's a trip, it's a bit edgy mentally too, there is a slight feeling of commitment, all though the routes are short.

 The Dag guarded the stuff, and the belay, until an almost alien being appeared.

You try to escape from the human world to ultimately have to come back, but sometimes even though you have escaped it's almost like there is a parallel universe just blipping next to you. While we climbed, cars kept on arriving, parking near our belay, crushing the flowers. The sounds of ordinary idiocy floated around, it was so intrusive you would quickly scuttle back down the ropes to climb. Even down at the water line we had four boats come to gawk!

Be careful, things can fall on you from on high, and some rant exploding bombs, they are human!


I don't know what is going to happen in a few years, people just seem to have morphed into dolts with phones. Apparently wanting to climb and travel the less traveled route is regarded as strange. Strange to whom? 

Happy Vaisakhi and just happiness to you all, by Stevie non religious Haston.

I normaly pray to a least ten gods a day, because even though I am an atheist, I like to hedge my bets.

 what I do when I don't climb, or when I am not crying about the stupid state of the world.

I have just struggled through two huge books about Margret the broom riding ex Priminister of the broken UK, wow I am exhausted. Good as the book was, it was a black 10 years, and set us up for the mess we are in now, with the new broom Mrs unelected May. The people of course to thank for this, are the thick misguided public, who either want to increase their wealth to insane proportions, or who would like to.

 local rubbish on one of our scenic walks!

I have noticed huge amounts of rubbish on the North Coast of Gozo, and so have other walkers and climbers. I am a bit tired of cleaning it up, but don't know what to do.

 Easter holidays, and not so many Brits, Brexit is kicking in except for football hooligans we sent to spain to sort out Gibraltar.

Climbing has proved a bit painful recently, a couple of falls bashed me about, and produced stuff that I didn't really notice (well I pretended I guess), a torn bicep, a broken thumb, and lots of throbbing, and stiffness of a rather unsavoury nature. 

 Kayak trip with Paulina, Dustin, and the Captain, the latter is not me, I am a humble mid shipman.

It is amazing what you can do if you don't recognise your not really up to scratch. If you think I am being facetious your correct. Whatever gave Trump, or May the idea that they could win anything other than a game of solitaire, or tiddlywinks. The weather has been great, it rains at night to keep everything green, and god has created many new rock climbs for me to discover-happy.

 a very foreshortened photo of a 30 meter plus Gormengast  Crack, 6a.

The approach to the above route is, or can be down through tunnels, and up and down steps in cliffs and darkness, and through letterboxes through rock, slither wither. 

   Chris pretending to be Edwin Lear.

I have climbed with some great people recently, Chris a tennis coach, Richard a journalist, and his family, Jo a social services worker, and my locals. Special thanks to Simon Alden who has kept my spirits up with the access problems and who caught me on one of my falls. Thanks everybody.