El Chorro '24
British winter is awful. Damp, slimey crags and cold drizzle offer little in terms of real enjoyment, even for the most psyched of climbers. The solution for many is to jet off to sunny Spain to clip some bolts in El Chorro!
The famously warm, dry, and reliable conditions attract a huge gaggle British climbers, including us! Tom, Chris, Matt, Jono, Sam, and I are the only folks from a large groupchat of punting prospecters who actually get around to booking some flights (mostly living together also helps!), and we agree to fly out together on the 15th December, pretty much as soon as the university term is over.
Day 1 - Sunday 15th
After a radically early 10 o'clock bedtime for me on Saturday night, we walk exitedly down to the bus station to get the 2:40am coach to Manchester airport, crossing paths with many people just finishing their night out. At the bus stop, we're approched by a street performer who asks keenly if we're going hiking or something. When we tell him we're climbers, he suddenly becomes super psyched and the conversation somehow boils down to British bolting ethics and how we shouldn't trust those "little wedge things" and we should bolt every route in the UK. "Hmm, just as well Tom's not getting the bus with us" I think as the man whips out his didgereedoo and starts to demonstrate the "crazy primal tones" to his bleary eyed and politely nodding audience of sleepy climbers. The bus finally arrives, bringing a welcome end to the surprisingly educational encounter.
A couple of stops and a few winks of sleep later, the bus pull into the airport and we meet up with Tom and Sam who drove down and checked the bag in already, making our lives very easy indeed. We're hours early for the flight so the order of the day is to poke around WHSmiths for a bit, flick through Climber magazine, browse through some boring papers, then settle in on the terminal floor to write the shopping list for the trip.
When we're called to the gate, we all don our helmets and rush down towards the gate. In his usual fashion, Tom flings himself down some railings but ends up doing a classy ragdoll fall down the stairs - just as well he had a helmet on. We arrive at the gate unscathed and take to following glorious selfie:
On the flight, I'm assured that the sunrise was very pretty despite being on the wrong side of the plane to see it - great. Tom and I did get a bit of moon action out of our side though.
Upon arrival in Malaga, we leave the airport terminal and head to the metro to get us into town. Now, the metro in Malaga operates a very convenient tap-on, tap-off system just like the London underground where a simple bank card lets you through the barrier. One by one, we smugly pass the clueless tourists queuing for train tickets and tap our way smoothly through the barrier, thanking our lucky stars for Matt's local knowledge. The last person through the barrier is Chris, who scans his card on the reader and, you guessed it, nothing happens. Swiping his card against the barrier with growing frustration, a red hot rage starts to boil behind his eyes. He tries the other barriers one by one, muttering something about "useless machines" and "stupid technology" until Matt passes him a card the lets him through. A busy metro ride later, we arrive in the city centre of Malaga and approch the barriers that let us scan off the train. Once again, we make it through without issue but Chris is not so lucky. He tries the barriers one by one with no luck and growing agitation, the usual cries about "useless machines" start to spew out as he hops from foot to foot and steam flies out his ears. After some time watching this pitiful but admittedly rather entertaining spectacle, a kind station worker puts Chris out of his misery and scans him through the barrier.
We spend a few hours in Malaga, doing a very heavy shop at a Lidl quite a long way from the train station, getting cash out, buying train tickets, etc. The time to get our 15:43 train starts to roll around so we head down to the platform. But wait! The dastardly ticket barriers wouldn't let us through that easily! The barcodes on our train tickets won't scan, and a chaotic din erupts, suggesting we're at the wrong platform, that this is entirely the wrong line, that we're doomed and the whole holiday is ruined! Turns out we just needed to rotate the tickets 90 degrees to make it scan - phew.
Around this time, Matt casually drops in the fact that the walk from the station to our accomodation in El Chorro is around half an hour. For the group carrying a huge 25kg gear bag and around a metric ton of shopping it's fair to say this was disheartening news, but it was soon reconciled by the amazing view out of the train window. Dozens of crags flash by that would have been prime destinations in the UK, but Matt assures us that they're not even worth climbing compared to Frontales. We have the train nearly to ourselves as it pulls in to El Chorro station and we're greeted by a face of rock that, by my standards, was pretty huge. Pockmarked with caves, grooves, and buttresses and bathed in bright afternoon sunshine it's fair to say we were all pretty psyched.
The long, heavily laden plod to the Finca ensues. It's pretty quiet when we arrive because everyone is out climbing so we get busy sorting food out and unpacking bags. Matt cooks and we all get an early night, feeling a bit weary from the 2am start.
Day 2 - Monday 16th
A not very alpine start has us wake up to an empty bunkhouse well after sunrise. After some quick breakfast, Chris and I leave the others faffing and get going to Frontales. The plan is to climb at Escalera Arabe upper tier, but we're soon distacted by the more convenient looking sector Austria. We spent so much time admiring the crag on the walk in that the others arrive at the crag as we gear up for our first climb. I start up what I thought was Tall People (6b), but soon realise I'm on the left hand variant - no worries, the novelty of the sun meant it still felt pretty good. Very strong gusts of wind bring a shower of tiny rocks off the top of the crag - we're glad not to have chosen the upper tier. Chris leads up Small People (6b) then I do the same, finding it surprising tricky and only having one draw to clean it. Looking to our right, we see Jonathan having the time of his life on a short multipitch that Matt is leading up.
Deciding that we're bored of Austria (we didn't come to Spain for slabs!!!), we head over to the Poema de Roca cave and Chris gets straight on the classic 7a. The steepness is like something I've only ever seen indoors and I'm pretty psyched just to be in the cave, let alone climb there. Chris begins to cruise up the complex but juggy start of the pitch, punctuated by many cool looking rests. The steepness eases slightly as he enters the groove and rests for a good few minutes while contemplating the rest of the pitch.
As I wait for him to move on, I hear a rope slither down the rock on the far side of the cave followed by stunned silence. A climber from Liverpool University Mountaineering Club (the worse LUMC) has dropped his rope while cleaning a route. His belayer runs off to find a belayer as Chris moves into the rest of the pitch, where he falls of annoyingly close to the top. I then give it a half hearted go, but get pumped and fall off around 3rd clip - I don't even fancy trying the rest of the moves and just lower off. I give a very nice Canadian guy a belay on it as the rest of the crew arrive at the cave and Twad starts eyeballing the steeper routes. I doss around the cave for a little while and we get chatting to the Liverpool crew, one of whom turns out to be Iona's brother - small world!
Deciding that maybe steep climbing isn't our thing, Sam and I head down to Los Albercones to climb something easier in the afternoon. I try El Virgo de Vincentela (6b+) which was super cool climbing, starting up a tricky wall. As I'm resting in the groove, a voice below asks Sam "Uhh, where are you guys from?", thinking that someone's recognised us I look down and see Imogen and Finn on their way down from doing Blue Line. Sadly, it wasn't really the moment for a proper catch up so hurried greetings had to suffice as I quested on up the groove, only to fall off as the climbing got thin and steep moving rightward onto the wall. I fall off again on my second go and give up on climbing hard for the day. I run up the pleasant 6a, Putiferio as Sam runs into town to answer a call of nature. A video of me asking for aseos could well still be Sam's phone.
Day 3 - Tuesday 17th
Matt and I agree the day before to go and climb Ebola (6b+) together. We all have an early start and get going for our respective multipitch objectives, with Sam and Jono setting off to do Amptrax (6a) and the Twad-Chris duo aiming for a 6c+. The sun rises as we walk along the track from La Finca to El Chorro:
A direct bash leads to the base of the crag, where I lead the easy first pitch. I suppose this was my first ever pitch of multipitch sport! Matt's next pitch is 5c and surprisingly hard to second with my massive shoes in the rucksack. I join Matt at an awesome cave belay and eye up my next pitch of steep looking 6a+. Setting off up the pitch, it feels a fair bit harder than 6a+ as the pump builds in my forearms but I pull through nonetheless and watch with some pity but mostly amusement at Matt battling up with the rucksack. It's now very much time for a picnic so that Matt can recover before doing the crux pitch, so a lump of cheese and a quick drink of water later Matt predictably wads up his pitch. Seconding with the heavy rucksack and no chalk was a bit of a desperate struggle, but I'm glad I did it cleanly. My not so easy 5b pitch and Matt's 3a (I reckon it was 2b+) walk brings us neatly to the top. Savouring the moment, we walk to the top of the crag to watch the vultures for a moment then walk off down the Amptrax descent, only going slightly the wrong way.
We reunite at Los Albercones with the successful team (Twad and Chris) who ground upped their route and the not-so-successful team (Jono and Sam) who decided today wasn't quite the day for Amptrax. We're all quite thirsty but there's time for psyched people to get a couple of routes in before heading back. I prefer to sit against a tree and belay, happy with the day's work.
Day 4 - Wednesday 18th
Feeling on a multipitch roll, Sam and I decided to do Lluvia de Asteroides, a classic 8 pitch 5c following a clear line up one of the big buttresses. Another early start brings us to the crag just before the Cardiff bunch who rock up as we're flaking our rope. We introduce ourselves as Sam climbs the first pitch, soon moving on to the urgent question of should you tell your second you're "safe" or "in hard", or even simply "hard"? That seems odd.
The route starts with a pleasant wash of slabby rock moving into steeper grooves. Despite moving at great pace (by our standards, anyway), the friendly Cardiff team of Finn and Tom stays hot on our heels, giving some cozy belays. We remark on the excellent quality of the pitches which all bring something new and interesting but constistently brilliant.
After my lead of the hefty 40m pitch, a big buttress of rock means me and Sam can't hear each other and the rope is a bit draggy. I must have been a bit enthusiastic with hoofing the rope through because Sam joins me at the belay with a lens missing from his glasses, explaining that the rope had slapped him in the face - whoops. Luckily, he's short sighted so could still see the rock in front of his hands and just missed out on the view.
The heat of the day really catches up with us for the last few pitches, meaning we're quite glad to get to the top and leave the Cardiff bunch to do their big link to the top. A painful rope coiling experience for Sam and a quick but sweaty abseil brings us to the marked descent, and we plod gratefully over the ridge and into the shade. We have a civilized picnic and reflect on the day before plodding off down the Amptrax descent and back to the Finca, where we spend the rest of the afternoon chilling by the pool.
While recuperating by the pool, we're offered a lift to the supermarket in Álora by Pete from Llanberis. Jumping at such an oppurtunity, Jono and I are soon in the back Pete's Fiat panda heading down the very windy road south. Pete turns out to be a lovely and interesting guy who's been on the Llanberis climbing scene for years and also did the same degree as Jono. The conversation ranges from net biodiversity improvement to the infuriating Spanish speed limits. After a quick shop, we're heading back up the valley to El Chorro and the sat nav takes us on a mysterious route up some unmade roads which get worse and worse, soon becoming a dogdy-looking rutted dirt track with a grumpy looking dog in the way. Thinking better than to wreck his hire car, Pete reverses out and retreats back to the realm of tarmac, soon bringing us back to the Finca with the supplies we needed for the rest of the week - thanks Pete!
Day 5 - Thursday 19th
Having all had our dose of multipitches the past few days, we decide that a day at the local crag, Las Encatadas, is in order. Matt suggests I get on Redders 7a and patiently belays me as I work out the lower moves, then fall off the steep crux. While the day is still cool, Matt gears up for an onsight attempt at Sara 7a+. Despite the lower difficulties, he milks the rests to cooly dispatch the route as his first 7a+ onsight. Now the crag has warmed up, we head down to the lower sector and I lead Right of the Rib (6a) for Jono to top rope. Clearly, the morning's excitement was all too much for Matt who had to rush off to the loo while belaying Jono, so a quick belay transfer was needed.
In this time, Sam had slipped twice from the techy crux of Programa Genocida (6b+), so I apprehensively get on lead, preparing for the same slabby slide as Sam. Cool traddy climbing up a groove past some funky bolting is followed by delicate slab climbing culminating with a rockover onto a high foot from a low foot jam which felt like an excellent move to gain a pockety jug. I find myself bridging weirdly across a groove at the top and grab the chains to clip, only because the lower off is weirdly nowhere near the victory jug.
Pleased with that lead in the midday sun, we head back to the Finca for a siesta. Might have tried Redders again that evening too, can't really remember.
Day 6 - Friday 20th
Having ditched Jonathan a day prior to climb Lluvia with Sam, we reunite on Friday with a plan to climb Valentines Day (6a). A nice prompt start means we have the route all to ourselves and perfect cool conditions. The first two pitches were long, easy and really good value for the quality of climbing included. Comfortable, ledgy belays also made life pleasant and we really started to feel like we were on holiday (particularly Jono who was seconding everything!). The third pitch (6a) was the highight of the route - a really well bolted thin crux moved into a steep and super flowy jug haul up to a hanging belay in an awesome position.
The fourth pitch was a lot less fun and a tad sandbagged with some traddy bolting and tricky moves, but it went OK and we were abbing off before we knew it. Our peckishness caught up with us mid abseil so we had a lovely little picnic on the belay ledge with a civilised spread of cheese and meats.
We strolled back to the Finca and had a lovely afternoon recuperating by the pool, even though I probably should have been trying Redders.
Day 7 - Saturday 21st
Today, Matt and I planned an early start to get some good conditions on Redders. That didn't quite happen so Sam and I wandered up at half 8 or so. The attempt today goes well and I get through to the top boulder problem crux before falling off, having breezed through the steep juggy bit that I'd struggled with on my last go. I mess around a bit trying the moves by the last bolt but still can't link it.
"This'll go with evening connies" I assure myself as the legendary Andy Brown arrives at the crag for the day, casually warming up on Sam's project (lol). In the hot hours of the day, I scamper up Bohem Destrell (6a+), Playmobil (6a+), and Para que Disfrute la Canalla (6b) with Jono top-roping in my wake. Think I had another go at Redders after a cheeky siesta, but no luck this time either. Tomorrow it'll go...
Day 8 - Sunday 22nd
A successful early start with Twad brings me to the crag with prime connies for a proper go. I nervously get on lead, feeling the pressure on my shoulders for the first time as the end of the trip draws nearer and nearer. The steep section feels like a breeze and I get to the niche rest with a conviction that this must be the last time I'm here. I poke out from the rest to put the next clip in and come back to rest some more. Commiting myself fully, I blast through the familiar sequence: right crimp, stand up/lock off to a good edge for the left hand, then shuffle the feet up some more into the good right-hand sidepull. Clip. Reach wide out left to a poor slopey sidepull, sort the feet out with a high right foot pulling on a positive hold and toe in hard, squeeze through the leg and lock the right arm as my left hand teeters over into the critical mono. Aaand my finger slips right out again, toppling me off.
With the heat of the sun forcing my next go to be an evening one, Tom and I move on to the upper tier of the Arab steps, catching up with the others on our way. A long and hot trudge brings us to the breezy crag right at the top of Frontales, with an amazing view spreading out beneath us. Despite the achy legs, Twad hops straight on Arabesque (7a) and sends as expected.
Still feeling knackered from the walk in, I bimble up Filou (6a) then walk a bit further to the north facing sector, Sombra, to belay Twad on some hard stuff that he doesn't quite manage. The sector turns out to be absolutely freezing so we make a rapid retreat back to the Arab steps which is somehow unbeatably hot, clearly the sun makes a big difference. Jono and I muster the psyche to quickly do the superbly positioned Dr. Teeth (6a+) which has some funky upper moves with a heel-toe cam, but was spoiled slightly by giving myself ropeburn stripping the route. Jono later dubbed himself Ray Laxeau based on his reclined method of belaying, which was flat out on the floor owing to the scorching heat. Well overdue for a siesta, we head back to the Finca.
We're heading home tomorrow so this evening really does feel like my last chance to do Redders. Just one quick bowl of watery porridge and I'm trudging back up the hill with Sam, determined to actually do it this time. The rock is still a bit warm from the heat of the day but the clock is ticking so I get on lead and start climbing the easy lower section. I launch into the steep crux as usual but miss the jug and come off. I'm a bit rattled by this but there's no time time to lose before dark so I lower off and try again. "Good warm up" I tell myself as I slip on my shoes for my last go, with 20 minutes until dark. Flowing through the lower moves and heaving stubbornly through the steep bit (despite missing the jug) I find myself in the niche rest, hopefully for the last time and I stay there for a good 10 minutes. The light is fading so I leave the rest, knowing I can do it this time. The same old sequence feels easy now and my finger sinks perfectly into the mono this time. Pulling up on the good crimp, I know I've done the route and just need to clip the chains! I sink my left hand triumphantly into the victory jam but I hit something fluffy. I pull my hand out, bewildered, as small bird flies out past my head which tips me off balance and I whip down past the last clip in total bewilderment. I'm lowering off as the daylight dies, knowing I can't try again today - I'm not sure I even want to. Turns out that Twad was right all along, birds are stupid.
Day 9 - Monday 23rd
There's time for a quick morning burn today before getting a lift from my Mum back to Malaga, so Tom and I head up to Las Encantadas to squeeze in a few more routes. I don't want to try Redders again so give Tom a belay on Sara (7a+) which he casually onsights, just like Matt did a few days ago. It's now a bit warm for trying hard so I go bolt to bolt up La Dura Vida de un Frekee (7a) which had some really cool moves that I'm glad I checked out before leaving.
We've already said goodbye to Matt, Sam, and Chris. So me, Tom, and Jono meet up with my Mum who kindly gives us a lift into Malaga, ending a fantastic holiday in Spanish fashion with some very narrow roads!