High tides, fierce wind, pouring rain, hard decisions and death.
Those are the word that describe this week in North Wales to us.
Words you donāt want to see together. Words that have far too much content for a week of climbing.
Once the words can be formed into one sentence you canāt go back. Down-climbing was no option.Ā
Still, it was a good week…
Is there any climbing in the UK?
On Kingsday we arrived with the ferry from the Netherlands. To climb as much as possible.
Not the most common option for a climbing adventure; the UK doesnāt sound too attractive to most climbers. Too much rain, too little sun, too much wind, too little rock.
We came to see if those prejudices were true or not.
After a full week of rain, and some intense climbing we arrived in Llanberis, North Wales for the BMC Trad climbing meet.
Welsh rock in the sun, as seen from Climbuz
BMC Trad meet
Once every two years the BMC organises a Summer climbing meet and the next year a Winter climbing meet.
We applied at our federation (NKBV) for the Summer meet and were both allowed to join.
From literary all over the World climbers traveled to Llanberis for the meet. South Africa, Mauritius, Japan, Portugal, Germany…all were present.
Itās unique to see so many climbers from all over the world sharing one single passion; climbing.
And the level? It didnāt matter. If your goal is to climb a VS; go for it, if your goal is to climb an E7; sure!
This combination makes the meet unique and a bog example for all other climbing meets organised all over the world.
The Host
Normally Dennis and I climb together, but this week we were both hooked up with each two days a different host; a local to show us the best climbing of Northern Wales.
In the hut we looked at the schedule. āhaha, Iām teamed up with Masa! Oh, and you are with Nick Bu-l-loc-k.ā
– āIām Nickā a voice said out of the couch.
A dark haired guy hung on the couch and looked at us.
He looked slightly familiar, Iād heard that name before… Canāt remember… Iām not that good with names…
A guy called Nick
Apparently he was ātheā climber around here having done not just hard trad routes but also fierce alpine, ice and expeditions.
And this hut is his house.
Half shy to be teamed up with such a good climber we set a plan for the first day.
It rained that Monday, so we were not really in a hurry to my opinion.
Most others seemed to be in a hurry to get the best climbing done. I didnāt see the point, all walls were wet anyway.
After a short ābasics-of-English-trad-climbing-safetyā explanation we went for our first adventure.
Single pitch trad at the sea at the area called Rhoscolyn.
Dennis and Masa decided to go the same area.
Nick and Dennis on their way to Rhoscolyn
Insecure as I was I chose to climb an obvious crack, graded HVS. It was still moist and the wind was harsh. At the top I could hardly stand up straight. But it was dry.
Down below our little puppy didnāt seem to like the hard wind and sea and eventhough she was completely tugged in she still rather wanted to cuddle inside my jacket.
Next route, a little harder, and yet another and another one. The climbing in the wind was intense and made us dream of soft and friendly Spanish climbing in the sun.
Masa going for it in The Sun
We decided to go up a route called āThe Sunā. Pity The Sun was utterly slimy-green-wet making the grade feel much harder.
We were done for the day and drove back to basecamp.
In the evenings a local catering service provided proper meals and it gave us all time to talk, share ideas and get to know more about climbing in other countries.
Every evening one or two people gave a slideshow about the climbing in their country.
The first evening; James introduced us to the best cracks in North Wales.
So now we know what to tick off. (Kind of, if you like to climb E6 and E7).
Holyhead, the beauty of the sea cliffs
The next day, Tuesday; time for multipitch.
Yet again it had rained but the rain didnāt seem to touch the seacliffs as bad as the inland cliffs on the Llanberis Pass.
Yellow Wall was the objective. A beautiful E3 5c called The Moon traversing slightly left over the cliff.
Three perfect pitches on relatively good quartzite. Most bits were small bulges, overhanging blocky pieces and every time I made a move for the next hold it felt better than expected. The route seemed to go on and on, just perfect!
Nick in the bautiful traverse of The Moon
When we topped out the clouds came in and so did a bit of rain. Lunchtime and time of a different cliff.
We walked to the Upper Tier just under the summit of Holyhead Mountain.
Fierce wind, clouds and a bit of rain but so much fun!
The little puppy ran around and sniffed on every piece of sheep-dung in the area. The sun was out again and it gave the little pup loads of energy.
We started with a route called The Strand. An utterly long pitch following a crack on the wall. We had to wait a bit as there were already two teams in the route. A unique combination; Masa and Masa were both climbing the route. The line had probably never seen any Japanese ascent and especially not two…of climbers with the same name!
Climbers in The Strand
Later on we went for a route called Energy Crisis. Quite some people were talking about the route. It was supposed to be rather difficult and the crux in the middle was not that easy to protect they said.
It made me insecure and Nick wanted to climb it on lead anyway.
The climbing wasnāt easy at all, but was as I often call it ādoableā. The crux was far not as hard as I expected it to be. Allright, so this is what E5 looks like.
The E-grading system made me rather scared. The E stands for Extreme, and Extreme is translated by my mind to āoh-that-is-rather-scary-Iām-not-so-sure-about-thisā.
So even E1 is hard, at least, that is what my mind says. Luckily this time my body told me otherwise.
Top of Devotee, at Gogarth maincliff. Picture by Masa Sakano
The sun was still on the cliff when we walked back to the car. Both of us were tempted to stay longer but Nick had his talk this evening so we had to leave.
The little puppy ran in front of us over that path (after the scramble where I carried her) her nose on the ground the found the whole way back to the car without any hesitation.
Impressive; all the junctions, sideways, different paths were not interesting to her, just the way back to the car.
Nick suggested I should train her for Truffel-searching and make some extra money out of her.
Not a bad idea.
That nose is good!
In the evening we had two talks again. Of which one by Nick.
He warned me; āI might curse quite a bitā.
So far when climbing he hadnāt said a single ābadā word but this evening it all came out in once.
The act, the story and the climbs he described gave us a very entertaining evening. We all laughed and laughed again. The British culture (being not afraid to make fun of yourself, present yourself and your friends as proper idiots) was properly presented. Heās a good storyteller and a good actor on stage.
The fall
Day three of the meet.
Different host, different climbs.
Yet again we had some rain but this day, Wednesday was supposed to be the best, the sunniest day of the week.
It turned out the be the Sunniest day, but for me, personally it was the worst day. Not just the worst day of the week, one of the worst days ever.
Tom Livingstone, a young blonde lad was my host. Iād probably would have asked him for a date (if I was his age and if I was single).
My Boyfriend-for-a-day suggested to go to a single pitch crack (Scimitar Ridge) up at the pass just minutes away from the hut. Easy access and proper climbing.
I already thought of going to the crack at least somewhere this week.
We warmed up on two easy but fun routes and were about to go for something harder when it all happened.
The little puppy was just going around in the grass, sniffing and just doing her āthingā as a dog; trying to find food and attention from us.
I looked at her when putting on my climbing shoes. One shoe was on, I was about the put the other shoe on and āhopā she tripped. And rolled. She rolled, and rolled and for my feeling it took forever! From the grass to the rocky surface and even there she kept on rolling! I wasnāt fast enough to run towards her and another climber caught her in her rolling.
I knew at once that it was wrong but didnāt want to know. Her back legs were just hanging, her eyes half closed, her breathing short and uneven. She didnāt whine, didnāt move, just was there in my hands.
I was shocked. I could she have rolled this far! Even I wouldnāt roll this far in this kind of terrain. What happened?!
I lay her down back at the backpacks and looked at her. She didnāt move, couldnāt move.
Okay, we have to go to a vet. This is bad.
I placed her in the special pet shoulder-bag and we walked down.
At the local climbing shop we asked for the closest vet and were advised to drive to Bangor, not too far from Llanberis. We couldnāt figure it ourselves as there was hardly proper cell-phone reception and the internet didnāt work either.
The young vet, a climber herself told me straight away this was bad…really bad.
I thought I was tough but the news was too much. I was suddenly in tears. My little puppy!
We did all the tests, and in the twists of rolls her back must have had too much. She was paralysed from her middle back, not able to control her bowels and her legs and she seemed to be in pain.
The vet told me she wouldnāt have a chance and most fair would be to put her down right now.
I couldnāt do it. I wanted to give her a chance. And also I wanted to discuss this first with Dennis and some other people close to me.
I called Dennis in tears.
We decided to give her another day. We would stay at the vets with a drip, pain relief and more and meanwhile theyād do extra testing on her. X-Ray, Ultrasound ect.
The vet herself apparently wanted to have a second opinion too, so she consulted a specialist in back-injuries. I consulted a specialist in the Netherlands, called my own vet and tried to find as much information as I could.
I couldnāt sleep.
DMM visit
The next morning I had it all clear in my mind: Weād get a phonecall from the vet telling she didnāt make it through the night.
We didnāt get the phonecall. Sheād still be alive.
Meanwhile we visited the company DMM, located in Llanberis.
Iāve visited quite some factories and have seem quite a few climbing factories from inside, but this one, DMM, is different. Maybe even unique.
The company is specialised in hardwear. Carabiners, scaffoldhooks, belay devices. Basically anything thats made of a metal is what they make in-house here in Wales.
And that, that is unique. From raw material to a fully working product, itās all done here in Wales.
Most (almost all) climbing companies have their metal devices being made abroad in countries like China.
Iāve been to China and Iāve seen the factories where equipment is being made.
And itās not good. The circumstances in which the workers do their job, the pollution coming with the process… It makes you want to use rather no carabiner then one made in China.
DMM Demo gear at the BMC meet
– Yes, but on my carabiners there is a text saying āMade in Franceā or āMade in Germanyā or āMade in the UKā or āMade in Italyā or āMade in…ā
Well, true, but most of these āmade inā actually means āassembled inā. The raw product (the carabiner without the spring and locking meganism attached) comes from China (or another similar country) and the final product comes from France, Italy, Germany, UK. So a company can just write āmade inā still.
This all doesnāt necessarily mean your product will be less safe when the parts are processed in China as the quality control check still has to be the same (as with every PPE product being sold in Europe) but ethically itās (mostly) not right to buy a product that has been āmadeā in China.
At DMM, which still is a factory and therefor looks dirty, dusty and rather grim; the process is honest, the employees healthy, the product far, far, far more environmental friendly.
As Llanberis lays in the nature reserve Snowdonia (around Walesā highest mountain called Snowdon) they have to obey very strict rules. They have to clean the water, they have to seperate all waste etcetera. And their workers do still grow hair, still have feeling in their fingers, because they must wear proper protection to work with the metals and machines. (Compared to the Chinese factories where none of these rules are taken in consideration…)
DMM at work
I honestly would rather buy a more expensive DMM carabiner than a cheaper, nicer looking carabiner from any other brand.
Good work DMM!
Later on the day we had our appointment with the Getu and the vet.
Everyone within the place seemed to love our little dog. They told us sheād been getting so much attention from everyone including other vets and caretakers.
But…it didnāt chance the situation.
We patted her, stroked her, lifted up her legs, did the tests again, just tried as much as we could but she was not better at all. Although, she was a little brighter in her head, she seemed to be able to listen to us, which was impossible yesterday.
Maybe this all made it even harder.
After this 24 hours the specialist gave her even less chances on improvement and the risk of infections would increase to almost 100% and clearly she still felt pain on her parts of her body that werenāt affected by the nerve break (?).
They all still said the same thing, consulted another specialists whoād been treating Dachshunds with back problems especially and yet again we got the same answer; surgery would only give her 25% chance on survival at first with a almost 100% certainty on other complications and hardly any chance on both being able to move her legs Ć”nd control her bowels.
We still didnāt want to know it. And wanted to give her another day, please, just one more day. A day where magic would happen.
The last day
We wanted to wait as long as possible so made an appointment with the vet after midday.
In the morning there would be time for climbing.
I needed climbing, otherwise I just would turn mad, desperate, as I already was.
Hardly slept, just staring at the ceiling, wondering about a million things.
We climbed slate today. I had a new host, Stu Bradbury and Dennis climbed with John Roberts.
Our first climb was an E3 5c called Comes the Dervish. Slab, trad. My first time slate-climbing.
I really had to get used to the friction, basically none… But as it was a slab there was just enough to step and hold.
Imagine climbing something hard on this type of rock, like The Big and the Small…!
That must be so intense!
Dennis and John in Dervish
Next route, Ride the Wild Surf E4 6a. the description said āawesome route dudeā so I just basically had to do it :)
Bolted. Which confused me quite a bit. Graded E4 but bolted…? I still took my cams and wires for a walk.
It turned out to be quite āairyā between the bolts and a possible fall would be very, very painful on the awkward steep terrain with sharp slate sticking out everywhere.
On and on it went, like a story in a big book it had chapters, sections, lines and finally I finished the book, with a big relief. I did it.
Scary, this bolted climbing…
Time to head back to the car, time to go to Getu.
Getu, poor thing.
Even now a few days later I can hardly write. Every word takes a while before I can get it onto the screen, theres more then a big lump in my throat, tears in my eyes. Theres a big empty space in my heart.
Yet again, no sign of improvement. But she was brighter in her head. Her red and bloody eyes were open, her nose was working and if she could sheād wiggle her tail of enjoyment by seeing us again.
I melted again, just by her looks. Sheās by far the sweetest and most beautiful little creature Iāve ever seen.
But still no improvement on anything.
I had to make one more phonecall, to one man who might know best, this friend had such a big heart for his animals (dog(s), horses) and such a natural approach but a very honest one too. If he would say the same thing, the worst thing, the hardest thing, Iād know enough… I could hardly talk, I could hardly say a word when I had him on the phone, I just didnāt want to know it, I didnāt want to stay in this horrible dream.
We both just wanted to take her home. Cuddle her. Lay next to her in our bed, and cuddle her even more. Give her a magic touch, a miracle, a thing… Just one more day, please, just chance now, give us a sign, give us something that tells us you will be better instead of worse. Please!
I was screaming inside. I donāt believe in the existence of a God, a higher-something, anything. But now, I prayed. Iād never prayed, but I just had to. It was the last thing I could do.
We took her to the van, sat with her for a long time. Stroked her, played her favourite games, gave her favourite toys, her favourite place. But the energy to play wasnāt there, and the little whines, her grey instead of blue eyes, her legs, her… everything.
It was not going to be any better. We understood now what the vets meant. And we felt so, so miserable, so sorry for the poor little thing. So horrible.
We cuddled her one more time and went inside again and told our vet she was right.
She also got tears in her eyes. And the two women behind the desk too and the other caretaker already had red eyes for a while.
Our vet said it was the only thing we could do for her, and said she had to ask her boss to do it because sheād cry so much as well.
We understood.
I stayed with Getu all the time. Saw it all happen, and still have it all far too bright in my mind right now. The whole thing keeps on coming back.
And I miss her so, so much!
We were allowed to take her with us. Home, to the van that she like to be at.
Climbing up on Holyhead, with Getu in the pack…
We drove to Holyhead, scrambled and climbed with her in the rain and wind, the weather she hated. All the way to the Summit.
We found a very big cairn near the Summit and quite some rocks around it. This was perfect.
With Getu still in the pack we disassembled the whole cairn. Dug in the ground till we ground only rock. Made a soft bed of moss and leaves surrounded by a small rock-wall and laid her there in a towel. We covered it with a sprinkle of Whisky and drank the rest ourselves. Took a couple of enormous rocks and put them over her little grave.
Now the hard work came, build the biggest cairn weād ever seen. Rock after rock after rock we piled up until we had a cairn the hight of ourselves. Two little coins we threw inside the cairn and heard them fall all the way down to the bottom. For luck, for when there would be a life after life, for just, just because.
We said our last words and marked the place in our GPS. Stayed for a while longer, just talking to her and scrambled back in the rain and wind over the path she found so well just a couple days earlier.
The cairn…
Tremadog philosophic climbing
Still sleep didnāt come easy, making me tired and weak for the climbing.
But I needed to climb.
With Stu, for the last day of the BMC meet.
Tremadog was our destination today.
Stu has a dog as well and has gone to quite some things with him too. I think it was the perfect combination to climb together this day.
After our first climb we just sat on top of the cliff and talked. Said wise things about life and stared in the distance. It was good.
Stu topping out at our first climb.
Our second climb was a little different, a stiff start up to the crux of a route called The Cream. At the belay Stu said I should do it because they were watching and Mike Hutton was taking pictures.
Oh Sh*.
I always get so nervous when people watch me climb, get so insecure. But I kind of had to climb…and was not allowed to fall.
I was so focused on the crack that I missed the really good handholds just right of the crack, making it rather difficult for myself.
It got even worse when I tried to hold the slot in the crack…wet. I moved around, chalked, chalked again, moved again and decided to go for the next hold. Wet!
There came the proper stress. Oh f* itās all wet, the foothold too!
Still moved, up, down, right, back, and fiddled my way up.
Good, good, this hold is a lot better then expected. Good, good. No footholds but hopefully the next hold is good. And it was!
When breathing again I climbed on to the top and belayed Stu.
Later we did yet another climb. Neb direct.
Stu lead the hard pitch and we both couldnāt do it in once! My only fall in the whole week. And that on my last climb.
That evening the party was fun, the food (lamb) was amazing and we made so many new friends.
Thank you all and especially thank you Becky, Nick, Tom and Stu for this amazing week.
It was a week of extremes a week Iāll never forget, but the climbing was good. The best therapy I can probably get.
So there is climbing after all here in the UK and even when it rains you still have to believe the climbing is possible.
The guidebooks, just of North Wales, wow, so much climbing here!
We lost our love, but life goes on.
If anyone knows a Dachshund (or similar to āteckelā) in need of a new home, please let us know!
High tides
High tides, fierce wind, pouring rain, hard decisions and death.
Those are the word that describe this week in North Wales to us.
Words you donāt want to see together. Words that have far too much content for a week of climbing.
Once the words can be formed into one sentence you canāt go back. Down-climbing was no option.Ā
Still, it was a good week…
Is there any climbing in the UK?
On Kingsday we arrived with the ferry from the Netherlands. To climb as much as possible.
Not the most common option for a climbing adventure; the UK doesnāt sound too attractive to most climbers. Too much rain, too little sun, too much wind, too little rock.
We came to see if those prejudices were true or not.
After a full week of rain, and some intense climbing we arrived in Llanberis, North Wales for the BMC Trad climbing meet.
Welsh rock in the sun, as seen from Climbuz
BMC Trad meet
Once every two years the BMC organises a Summer climbing meet and the next year a Winter climbing meet.
We applied at our federation (NKBV) for the Summer meet and were both allowed to join.
From literary all over the World climbers traveled to Llanberis for the meet. South Africa, Mauritius, Japan, Portugal, Germany…all were present.
Itās unique to see so many climbers from all over the world sharing one single passion; climbing.
And the level? It didnāt matter. If your goal is to climb a VS; go for it, if your goal is to climb an E7; sure!
This combination makes the meet unique and a bog example for all other climbing meets organised all over the world.
The Host
Normally Dennis and I climb together, but this week we were both hooked up with each two days a different host; a local to show us the best climbing of Northern Wales.
In the hut we looked at the schedule. āhaha, Iām teamed up with Masa! Oh, and you are with Nick Bu-l-loc-k.ā
– āIām Nickā a voice said out of the couch.
A dark haired guy hung on the couch and looked at us.
He looked slightly familiar, Iād heard that name before… Canāt remember… Iām not that good with names…
A guy called Nick
Apparently he was ātheā climber around here having done not just hard trad routes but also fierce alpine, ice and expeditions.
And this hut is his house.
Half shy to be teamed up with such a good climber we set a plan for the first day.
It rained that Monday, so we were not really in a hurry to my opinion.
Most others seemed to be in a hurry to get the best climbing done. I didnāt see the point, all walls were wet anyway.
After a short ābasics-of-English-trad-climbing-safetyā explanation we went for our first adventure.
Single pitch trad at the sea at the area called Rhoscolyn.
Dennis and Masa decided to go the same area.
Nick and Dennis on their way to Rhoscolyn
Insecure as I was I chose to climb an obvious crack, graded HVS. It was still moist and the wind was harsh. At the top I could hardly stand up straight. But it was dry.
Down below our little puppy didnāt seem to like the hard wind and sea and eventhough she was completely tugged in she still rather wanted to cuddle inside my jacket.
Next route, a little harder, and yet another and another one. The climbing in the wind was intense and made us dream of soft and friendly Spanish climbing in the sun.
Masa going for it in The Sun
We decided to go up a route called āThe Sunā. Pity The Sun was utterly slimy-green-wet making the grade feel much harder.
We were done for the day and drove back to basecamp.
In the evenings a local catering service provided proper meals and it gave us all time to talk, share ideas and get to know more about climbing in other countries.
Every evening one or two people gave a slideshow about the climbing in their country.
The first evening; James introduced us to the best cracks in North Wales.
So now we know what to tick off. (Kind of, if you like to climb E6 and E7).
Holyhead, the beauty of the sea cliffs
The next day, Tuesday; time for multipitch.
Yet again it had rained but the rain didnāt seem to touch the seacliffs as bad as the inland cliffs on the Llanberis Pass.
Yellow Wall was the objective. A beautiful E3 5c called The Moon traversing slightly left over the cliff.
Three perfect pitches on relatively good quartzite. Most bits were small bulges, overhanging blocky pieces and every time I made a move for the next hold it felt better than expected. The route seemed to go on and on, just perfect!
Nick in the bautiful traverse of The Moon
When we topped out the clouds came in and so did a bit of rain. Lunchtime and time of a different cliff.
We walked to the Upper Tier just under the summit of Holyhead Mountain.
Fierce wind, clouds and a bit of rain but so much fun!
The little puppy ran around and sniffed on every piece of sheep-dung in the area. The sun was out again and it gave the little pup loads of energy.
We started with a route called The Strand. An utterly long pitch following a crack on the wall. We had to wait a bit as there were already two teams in the route. A unique combination; Masa and Masa were both climbing the route. The line had probably never seen any Japanese ascent and especially not two…of climbers with the same name!
Climbers in The Strand
Later on we went for a route called Energy Crisis. Quite some people were talking about the route. It was supposed to be rather difficult and the crux in the middle was not that easy to protect they said.
It made me insecure and Nick wanted to climb it on lead anyway.
The climbing wasnāt easy at all, but was as I often call it ādoableā. The crux was far not as hard as I expected it to be. Allright, so this is what E5 looks like.
The E-grading system made me rather scared. The E stands for Extreme, and Extreme is translated by my mind to āoh-that-is-rather-scary-Iām-not-so-sure-about-thisā.
So even E1 is hard, at least, that is what my mind says. Luckily this time my body told me otherwise.
Top of Devotee, at Gogarth maincliff. Picture by Masa Sakano
The sun was still on the cliff when we walked back to the car. Both of us were tempted to stay longer but Nick had his talk this evening so we had to leave.
The little puppy ran in front of us over that path (after the scramble where I carried her) her nose on the ground the found the whole way back to the car without any hesitation.
Impressive; all the junctions, sideways, different paths were not interesting to her, just the way back to the car.
Nick suggested I should train her for Truffel-searching and make some extra money out of her.
Not a bad idea.
That nose is good!
In the evening we had two talks again. Of which one by Nick.
He warned me; āI might curse quite a bitā.
So far when climbing he hadnāt said a single ābadā word but this evening it all came out in once.
The act, the story and the climbs he described gave us a very entertaining evening. We all laughed and laughed again. The British culture (being not afraid to make fun of yourself, present yourself and your friends as proper idiots) was properly presented. Heās a good storyteller and a good actor on stage.
The fall
Day three of the meet.
Different host, different climbs.
Yet again we had some rain but this day, Wednesday was supposed to be the best, the sunniest day of the week.
It turned out the be the Sunniest day, but for me, personally it was the worst day. Not just the worst day of the week, one of the worst days ever.
Tom Livingstone, a young blonde lad was my host. Iād probably would have asked him for a date (if I was his age and if I was single).
My Boyfriend-for-a-day suggested to go to a single pitch crack (Scimitar Ridge) up at the pass just minutes away from the hut. Easy access and proper climbing.
I already thought of going to the crack at least somewhere this week.
We warmed up on two easy but fun routes and were about to go for something harder when it all happened.
The little puppy was just going around in the grass, sniffing and just doing her āthingā as a dog; trying to find food and attention from us.
I looked at her when putting on my climbing shoes. One shoe was on, I was about the put the other shoe on and āhopā she tripped. And rolled. She rolled, and rolled and for my feeling it took forever! From the grass to the rocky surface and even there she kept on rolling! I wasnāt fast enough to run towards her and another climber caught her in her rolling.
I knew at once that it was wrong but didnāt want to know. Her back legs were just hanging, her eyes half closed, her breathing short and uneven. She didnāt whine, didnāt move, just was there in my hands.
I was shocked. I could she have rolled this far! Even I wouldnāt roll this far in this kind of terrain. What happened?!
I lay her down back at the backpacks and looked at her. She didnāt move, couldnāt move.
Okay, we have to go to a vet. This is bad.
I placed her in the special pet shoulder-bag and we walked down.
At the local climbing shop we asked for the closest vet and were advised to drive to Bangor, not too far from Llanberis. We couldnāt figure it ourselves as there was hardly proper cell-phone reception and the internet didnāt work either.
The young vet, a climber herself told me straight away this was bad…really bad.
I thought I was tough but the news was too much. I was suddenly in tears. My little puppy!
We did all the tests, and in the twists of rolls her back must have had too much. She was paralysed from her middle back, not able to control her bowels and her legs and she seemed to be in pain.
The vet told me she wouldnāt have a chance and most fair would be to put her down right now.
I couldnāt do it. I wanted to give her a chance. And also I wanted to discuss this first with Dennis and some other people close to me.
I called Dennis in tears.
We decided to give her another day. We would stay at the vets with a drip, pain relief and more and meanwhile theyād do extra testing on her. X-Ray, Ultrasound ect.
The vet herself apparently wanted to have a second opinion too, so she consulted a specialist in back-injuries. I consulted a specialist in the Netherlands, called my own vet and tried to find as much information as I could.
I couldnāt sleep.
DMM visit
The next morning I had it all clear in my mind: Weād get a phonecall from the vet telling she didnāt make it through the night.
We didnāt get the phonecall. Sheād still be alive.
Meanwhile we visited the company DMM, located in Llanberis.
Iāve visited quite some factories and have seem quite a few climbing factories from inside, but this one, DMM, is different. Maybe even unique.
The company is specialised in hardwear. Carabiners, scaffoldhooks, belay devices. Basically anything thats made of a metal is what they make in-house here in Wales.
And that, that is unique. From raw material to a fully working product, itās all done here in Wales.
Most (almost all) climbing companies have their metal devices being made abroad in countries like China.
Iāve been to China and Iāve seen the factories where equipment is being made.
And itās not good. The circumstances in which the workers do their job, the pollution coming with the process… It makes you want to use rather no carabiner then one made in China.
DMM Demo gear at the BMC meet
– Yes, but on my carabiners there is a text saying āMade in Franceā or āMade in Germanyā or āMade in the UKā or āMade in Italyā or āMade in…ā
Well, true, but most of these āmade inā actually means āassembled inā. The raw product (the carabiner without the spring and locking meganism attached) comes from China (or another similar country) and the final product comes from France, Italy, Germany, UK. So a company can just write āmade inā still.
This all doesnāt necessarily mean your product will be less safe when the parts are processed in China as the quality control check still has to be the same (as with every PPE product being sold in Europe) but ethically itās (mostly) not right to buy a product that has been āmadeā in China.
At DMM, which still is a factory and therefor looks dirty, dusty and rather grim; the process is honest, the employees healthy, the product far, far, far more environmental friendly.
As Llanberis lays in the nature reserve Snowdonia (around Walesā highest mountain called Snowdon) they have to obey very strict rules. They have to clean the water, they have to seperate all waste etcetera. And their workers do still grow hair, still have feeling in their fingers, because they must wear proper protection to work with the metals and machines. (Compared to the Chinese factories where none of these rules are taken in consideration…)
DMM at work
I honestly would rather buy a more expensive DMM carabiner than a cheaper, nicer looking carabiner from any other brand.
Good work DMM!
Later on the day we had our appointment with the Getu and the vet.
Everyone within the place seemed to love our little dog. They told us sheād been getting so much attention from everyone including other vets and caretakers.
But…it didnāt chance the situation.
We patted her, stroked her, lifted up her legs, did the tests again, just tried as much as we could but she was not better at all. Although, she was a little brighter in her head, she seemed to be able to listen to us, which was impossible yesterday.
Maybe this all made it even harder.
After this 24 hours the specialist gave her even less chances on improvement and the risk of infections would increase to almost 100% and clearly she still felt pain on her parts of her body that werenāt affected by the nerve break (?).
They all still said the same thing, consulted another specialists whoād been treating Dachshunds with back problems especially and yet again we got the same answer; surgery would only give her 25% chance on survival at first with a almost 100% certainty on other complications and hardly any chance on both being able to move her legs Ć”nd control her bowels.
We still didnāt want to know it. And wanted to give her another day, please, just one more day. A day where magic would happen.
The last day
We wanted to wait as long as possible so made an appointment with the vet after midday.
In the morning there would be time for climbing.
I needed climbing, otherwise I just would turn mad, desperate, as I already was.
Hardly slept, just staring at the ceiling, wondering about a million things.
We climbed slate today. I had a new host, Stu Bradbury and Dennis climbed with John Roberts.
Our first climb was an E3 5c called Comes the Dervish. Slab, trad. My first time slate-climbing.
I really had to get used to the friction, basically none… But as it was a slab there was just enough to step and hold.
Imagine climbing something hard on this type of rock, like The Big and the Small…!
That must be so intense!
Dennis and John in Dervish
Next route, Ride the Wild Surf E4 6a. the description said āawesome route dudeā so I just basically had to do it :)
Bolted. Which confused me quite a bit. Graded E4 but bolted…? I still took my cams and wires for a walk.
It turned out to be quite āairyā between the bolts and a possible fall would be very, very painful on the awkward steep terrain with sharp slate sticking out everywhere.
On and on it went, like a story in a big book it had chapters, sections, lines and finally I finished the book, with a big relief. I did it.
Scary, this bolted climbing…
Time to head back to the car, time to go to Getu.
Getu, poor thing.
Even now a few days later I can hardly write. Every word takes a while before I can get it onto the screen, theres more then a big lump in my throat, tears in my eyes. Theres a big empty space in my heart.
Yet again, no sign of improvement. But she was brighter in her head. Her red and bloody eyes were open, her nose was working and if she could sheād wiggle her tail of enjoyment by seeing us again.
I melted again, just by her looks. Sheās by far the sweetest and most beautiful little creature Iāve ever seen.
But still no improvement on anything.
I had to make one more phonecall, to one man who might know best, this friend had such a big heart for his animals (dog(s), horses) and such a natural approach but a very honest one too. If he would say the same thing, the worst thing, the hardest thing, Iād know enough… I could hardly talk, I could hardly say a word when I had him on the phone, I just didnāt want to know it, I didnāt want to stay in this horrible dream.
We both just wanted to take her home. Cuddle her. Lay next to her in our bed, and cuddle her even more. Give her a magic touch, a miracle, a thing… Just one more day, please, just chance now, give us a sign, give us something that tells us you will be better instead of worse. Please!
I was screaming inside. I donāt believe in the existence of a God, a higher-something, anything. But now, I prayed. Iād never prayed, but I just had to. It was the last thing I could do.
We took her to the van, sat with her for a long time. Stroked her, played her favourite games, gave her favourite toys, her favourite place. But the energy to play wasnāt there, and the little whines, her grey instead of blue eyes, her legs, her… everything.
It was not going to be any better. We understood now what the vets meant. And we felt so, so miserable, so sorry for the poor little thing. So horrible.
We cuddled her one more time and went inside again and told our vet she was right.
She also got tears in her eyes. And the two women behind the desk too and the other caretaker already had red eyes for a while.
Our vet said it was the only thing we could do for her, and said she had to ask her boss to do it because sheād cry so much as well.
We understood.
I stayed with Getu all the time. Saw it all happen, and still have it all far too bright in my mind right now. The whole thing keeps on coming back.
And I miss her so, so much!
We were allowed to take her with us. Home, to the van that she like to be at.
Climbing up on Holyhead, with Getu in the pack…
We drove to Holyhead, scrambled and climbed with her in the rain and wind, the weather she hated. All the way to the Summit.
We found a very big cairn near the Summit and quite some rocks around it. This was perfect.
With Getu still in the pack we disassembled the whole cairn. Dug in the ground till we ground only rock. Made a soft bed of moss and leaves surrounded by a small rock-wall and laid her there in a towel. We covered it with a sprinkle of Whisky and drank the rest ourselves. Took a couple of enormous rocks and put them over her little grave.
Now the hard work came, build the biggest cairn weād ever seen. Rock after rock after rock we piled up until we had a cairn the hight of ourselves. Two little coins we threw inside the cairn and heard them fall all the way down to the bottom. For luck, for when there would be a life after life, for just, just because.
We said our last words and marked the place in our GPS. Stayed for a while longer, just talking to her and scrambled back in the rain and wind over the path she found so well just a couple days earlier.
The cairn…
Tremadog philosophic climbing
Still sleep didnāt come easy, making me tired and weak for the climbing.
But I needed to climb.
With Stu, for the last day of the BMC meet.
Tremadog was our destination today.
Stu has a dog as well and has gone to quite some things with him too. I think it was the perfect combination to climb together this day.
After our first climb we just sat on top of the cliff and talked. Said wise things about life and stared in the distance. It was good.
Stu topping out at our first climb.
Our second climb was a little different, a stiff start up to the crux of a route called The Cream. At the belay Stu said I should do it because they were watching and Mike Hutton was taking pictures.
Oh Sh*.
I always get so nervous when people watch me climb, get so insecure. But I kind of had to climb…and was not allowed to fall.
I was so focused on the crack that I missed the really good handholds just right of the crack, making it rather difficult for myself.
It got even worse when I tried to hold the slot in the crack…wet. I moved around, chalked, chalked again, moved again and decided to go for the next hold. Wet!
There came the proper stress. Oh f* itās all wet, the foothold too!
Still moved, up, down, right, back, and fiddled my way up.
Good, good, this hold is a lot better then expected. Good, good. No footholds but hopefully the next hold is good. And it was!
When breathing again I climbed on to the top and belayed Stu.
Later we did yet another climb. Neb direct.
Stu lead the hard pitch and we both couldnāt do it in once! My only fall in the whole week. And that on my last climb.
That evening the party was fun, the food (lamb) was amazing and we made so many new friends.
Thank you all and especially thank you Becky, Nick, Tom and Stu for this amazing week.
It was a week of extremes a week Iāll never forget, but the climbing was good. The best therapy I can probably get.
So there is climbing after all here in the UK and even when it rains you still have to believe the climbing is possible.
The guidebooks, just of North Wales, wow, so much climbing here!
We lost our love, but life goes on.
If anyone knows a Dachshund (or similar to āteckelā) in need of a new home, please let us know!
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