A couple weeks ago my friend Jeff flew in with the plan of spending a few months traveling and climbing around Europe. I was only taking one class at the time, and so the time was perfect for a couple long weekends of climbing. Being car-less we were confined to the routes of public transportation and the power of our feet. Luckily a few notable climbing spots are stops on the Tren dels Llacs (Train of the Lakes) which follows a series of lakes between Lleida and Pobla de Segur. The Tren dels Llacs is Spain’s answer to Switzerland’s Glacier Express. As we coasted along aqua lakes and tunneled through steep mountainsides, I was mesmerized with wide eyes and my nose pressed to the glass windows.
First up was Sant Llorenc de Montgai, probably best known as the new home of Chris Sharma, the world’s most recognized, and arguably best, rock climber. We showed up to a fog that would put even the pirates of the Caribbean to shame. We walked for about twenty minutes to our campsite only to find that despite the “open all year” slogan the campground was closed. The refuge in town was also closed, but we decided it would be best to climb first and troubleshoot later. Unfortunately the fog had made the rock pretty saturated, but it was a light week for me anyway so I was content to climb some easier routes. That evening we killed a lot of hours at the bar before clandestinely camping under a picnic shelter. It misted all night, and the next morning was even worse. Climbing would be impossible so we decided to head back to Barcelona and try out luck in another area. Unfortunately the next return train didn’t leave for another four hours, but more frequent trains left from a town about 8 km away. Time to hoof it! After a little more than an hour a fellow climber pulled over and drove us the remaining few kilometers.
After that trip we climbed for a day in Montserrat, spent a few days in Barcelona, and jumped back on the train for another weekend. We planned to go to Santa Linya, but that plan changed very quickly.
“You know there’s nothing there,” said the train employee as he checked our tickets.
“Well there’s some good climbing,” I responded.
“No, I mean the stop is in the middle of nowhere, 12 kilometers from town,” he said.
So, we upgraded our tickets for a couple more stops and decided to go to Terradets. I had actually wanted to go to Terradets in the first place as I had been told that one crag, Paret de les Bruixes (Witches Wall), was the best in Cataluña. We showed up at the refuge to find a sign “we’ll be back in a minute.” Apparently the owner’s watch must have been broken because that minute lasted three days (maybe longer). We had hoped to buy a fuel canister from the refuge, and so we ended up eating our dinners in the small restaurant a few minutes away. We camped out on an old train platform and walked to the climbing every day.
I’ve said this before, and I hope I say it again: best climbing of my life, period. Paret de Bruixes is tidal wave of immaculate limestone. Consistently 10-30 degrees overhanging, 30 meters tall, tufa curtains, flat edges, flowing movement, and uniquely continuous climbing. What makes the routes spectacular is that each move is as hard as the previous move, which means the climbing gets progressively more exciting. I like climbs that are mental, climbs that force me to hang on until the end, and every route I climbed at Paret de les Bruixes was an exercise in mental endurance. Also, for some reason, the specific rock formations have created the most incredible movement I have experienced outside. It involved lots of twisting, big moves to good holds, and generally intuitive climbing. It was a good weekend of onsight climbing for me. I onsighted a few 12a’s and 12b’s with surprising ease. Unfortunately I was also an idiot and blew both of my 12c onsights. On the first one I arrived at a tricky sequence, read the moves, and as I was going for it I decided to change my sequence. It didn’t work and I went flying. With the original sequence I easily climbed to the top. The next day’s 12c failure was even dumber. I started off the day with a short 11a, and I had hoped to get on one of the longer 12a’s to finish warming up. They were all occupied, so I figured I would just go for it. The sun had just hit the rock, and the rock was still very cold. After 20 feet I couldn’t feel my fingers, I managed a few more moves and then fell from good holds when my fingers simply opened. I spent several minutes wincing in pain as I re-warmed my fingers in my armpits. I then easily climbed to the top. I would have really liked to have succeeded on those two onsights because they were incredible routes. I learned my lessons the hard way.
Nice view
Paret de les Bruixes
Rain in Cataluña kept me in Barcelona this last weekend, but I felt like I needed a weekend off anyway. I have managed to climb outside a ton over the last month. Between December 19th and January 21st I climbed 21 days outside. Over those 21 days I climbed my three hardest routes ever and tripled my hardest onsights. Now I’m happy to be starting a normal routine of school and weekend climbing. I’m setting new goals for my big climbing trip this summer, and more importantly I’m creating a path to realize those goals. Winter training 2011 has begun!
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