Archive

escalada

122013_catalunya_hodzic_030

Racó de Misa, Montsant at sunset
Can you spot the climber?

Note: This is an old post whose content was created for fun, with little to no proof-reading or editing. Please read this post keeping that in mind.

My trip back to Spain started off in a rather rocky (pun!) way to put it delicately. After a very stressful last week of school that involved studying for final exams, frantically repairing all of my apple products that conveniently decided to break at the same time, and shoving random items into my backpack and calling it “packing” I showed up at SFO , ready to put the stress behind me and start on my epic spanish climbing adventure.. part deux.
Read More

Note: This is an old post whose content was created for fun, with little to no proof-reading or editing. Please read this post keeping that in mind.

Chris and I didn’t realize it at the time, but we coincidentally planned our France climbing trip in decreasing order of approach times. At Céüse we did the famous 45 min- 1 hr grueling uphill approach every day and then at the Ardeche our approach was flat and about 20-30 minutes long (once we figured out how to do it and didn’t have to employ kayakers to get our gear across the river), though it did involve easy traversing on cables for a small part of it. There were also scorpion sightings, humongous river otters and hoards of French tourists in mega-industrial “campsites”- it was pretty intense.   The approaches at the Gorges du Tarn were quite a bit different… on average they were about 2 minutes long. In fact, a lot of the best sectors are right off of the road which runs parallel to the beautiful (and cold!) Tarn river.  In fact, the whole setup was pretty similar to the Ardeche; in other words, a ridiculous number of limestone crags surround a river in a remarkably striking Gorge. However, the differences were only improvements- the rock quality is way better and there were much less tourists.

Image

Read More

Note: This is an old post whose content was created for fun, with little to no proof-reading or editing. Please read this post keeping that in mind.

As soon as school got out I ventured beyond Spain’s borders to see what its next door neighbor, France, had to offer in sport climbing. They say that sport climbing was born in France so I had high expectations, though was pretty skeptical; I just couldn’t imagine anything topping Spanish crags like Margalef , Rodellar or El Chorro. Our first stop was Céüse, a cliff band that is perched on top of a hill near the French Alps.

Read More

 
 
 
Note: This is an old post whose content was created for fun, with little to no proof-reading or editing. Please read this post keeping that in mind.



Yes, this blog has been posted about 2 weeks late, but I’ve been super busy climbing and enjoying life in the South of France. Thanks to a few summer thunderstorms that have slowed us down, this post has finally taken priority over going wine-tasting and eating more goat cheese..
Read More

Note: This is an old post whose content was created for fun, with little to no proof-reading or editing. Please read this post keeping that in mind.
I am writing this blog post from probably my most luxurious location yet- sitting on the bathroom tiled floor at the Ceuse campgrounds, right in front of the trashcans – unfortunately my charger can’t stretch past the trash and outside. Ceuse is a cliff band in the South of France and has been called by many as the best sport climbing destination in the world. It also comes with a bit of history as it houses the first 9a+, (5.15a) climbed, called Biografie or Realization whose first ascent was done by Chris Sharma. But, stories of my travels in france (which have just started) will come a bit later. (as a mini-preview, Ceuse is amazing but it’s kicking my ass!) Before I crossed the border, I took a week long climbing trip with my friend Chris Jorde to the Basque Country.
Note: This is an old post whose content was created for fun, with little to no proof-reading or editing. Please read this post keeping that in mind.

In Spanish, “psicobloc” literally translates into “crazy bouldering” which is probably the best way to describe deep-water soloing, a scary but exhilarating form of climbing in which the climber ascends without a rope (aka: soloing), but does so over the ocean so the water serves as protection in the event of a fall. Perhaps the most revered location to practice DWS is Mallorca, one of the four Balearic islands in the Mediterranean sea off of the coast of Spain.  As I explained in my other blog post about the sport climbing on Mallorca, my friend Nat, who just so happens to be a super strong rock-climber, has been living in Palma, the main city in Mallorca. So, when the opportunity presented itself to go to Mallorca and crash on his couch for a few days while sampling the islands climbing, I couldn’t resist. Nat graciously agreed to host me and show me both the sport climbing and DWS.
Read More

View from the road leading to Gorg Blau, a climbing sector in Mallorca located in the mountains
Note: This is an old post whose content was created for fun, with little to no proof-reading or editing. Please read this post keeping that in mind.

My four day trip to Mallorca, one of the four Balearic islands off of the eastern coast of Spain, started off with me getting lost in my bright blue Fiat Panda rental car on my way to find my friend Nat. Luckily, this rental car experience didn’t start nearly as badly as the one I had in Portugal, where it took me a good five minutes to figure out how to put the car in reverse (I’m a good stick driver, I swear). This time I hopped in and, feeling like a boss, pulled out onto the freeway with major ganas to eat a bocadillo (“sandwich” in Spanish and quite the popular lunch item) meet my friend Nat at his apartment in Palma and leave as soon as possible to go climbing.  I met Nat almost three years ago at UC Davis, my university, at the climbing wall in our school gym, where my love affair with climbing began. Still, we never really climbed or hung out together too much apart from sometimes climbing together at the gym. When I first arrived in Barcelona some casual facebook browsing led me to the discovery that Nat was living in Mallorca teaching English and, more than anything, climbing overhung limestone tufa. Read More