Poetry in Pink(s)

The slate quarries are a peculiar place. Logic assures us that industrial waste is ugly, that the destruction of landscape brought on by dragging raw materials out of the ground will leave only a harsh reminder of our insatiable desire for development.

And yet, they have a certain majesty...

Neil beneath the sheer face of Colossus Wall.
In mid March we made the pilgrimage to North Wales again, borne on the promise of good weather and fast drying rock. After fuelling up on porridge and nuts, we parked up next to Bus Stop Quarry and made the trek through the mountainous heaps of slate to reach the Rainbow Slab.

Abseiling into Rainbow Slab (Route: Rainbow of Recalcitrance E6/6b)
One of the cleanest faces on slate with very serious routes up to 63 metres in length, the Rainbow Slab makes for a truly daunting prospect. After a smooth onsight of Pull My Daisy (E2/5c), followed by Neil's gripping solo ascent of Red and Yellow (E1/5a), I found myself standing at the bottom of the classic slate test piece Poetry Pink, a bold and technical E5/6a.

Buoyed on by a sense of optimism and the confidence lent from my recent bold grit ascents, I laced up my newly purchased Anasazi Pink rock shoes and set about putting them to their first real test. The initial seven metres of soloing passed smoothly, and I was soon placing a couple of cams in the first available placement before rocking over and clipping the first bolt at 9 metres.

Now, the real event began. Unknowing though I was at the time, these next few moves were actually the technical crux of the route. Standing up on edges with small crimps for my hands, I placed a high foot onto a tiny edge, rocked over and gained a mono crimp for my left hand, and a slightly better two finger crimp for my right. Swift movement and hard crimping somehow resulted in upward progress, and I reached steadily better holds as the gear receded beneath my feet, until I finally gained a solid finger edge and positive edges for my feet.

Feeling gripped, and aware that a fall at this point could well lead to decking out, I shuffled my feet around for a while before reluctantly attempting the next move.

In my gripped state, it felt desperate. I reversed back down to the finger edge and weighed up my options - there was no easy escape at this stage. I could fall off, or deliberately jump off and hope that I didn't deck. Either way, I would take a massive fall of about fourteen metres.

I shook my head. Sod that. With the decision made, things became simple. I had to make the move.

I pressed my foot onto a marginal smear, reached up with my left hand to a tiny micro-crimp, placed my right foot onto the finger edge that still had my right hand on it and, whimpering, rocked slowly over and upwards until I was standing hands free on the edge, within clipping distance of the next bolt.
Clipping the second bolt.
Filled with a deep relief that I could no longer deck out, the next few moves flowed seamlessly until suddenly I found myself manteling onto the rainbow, my feet on small sloping edges and my hands palming tenuously against the completely blank upper face.

The next move required a delicate step through with my left foot, followed by more cautious footsteps leading to what hopefully looked like decent holds. Faced once more with a big fall potential, although at least not a groundfall potential this time, I stepped through, padded across the rainbow and latched gratefully onto a ladder of positive holds that lead to a good ledge and small gear.

The final groove presented a real sting in the tail. Fairly positive but powerful moves almost resulted in my coming unstuck, and it was only the determination to finish what I'd started that gave me the strength to pull through and latch the finishing jugs. My first E5 onsight.

Myself (left) and Neil (Right). 

Looking out over the mountains.

So there you have it. Poetry in Pink, onsighted in Pinks. The trad bug seems sated for the moment, but no doubt it'll be back to niggle me soon enough...

- Mischa










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