I'm a woman

I'm a woman
Photos copyright Laurence Gouault
No reproduction on other media without the photographer's permission.

Monday 30 November 2015

Wednesday 25 November 2015

Wet Hell Hounds chasing, by Stevie sleepy Haston.

water is gathering energy

 Flat as a duck pond yesterday when I stripped one of my projects, today I couldn't get to another, lost a  stack of gear I imagine.

 My project Berlin getting plaster all to hell. 30 meter high cliff!


I was so pleased with myself yesterday, got my gear, didn't think the wind would shift all over the place!  You can never trust the sea, that is why, she is a she.

 about to get colonic irrigation.

I love hanging out on this bar, its my favourite hang, in a rough sea you wrap your arms around the railings and hang on, I really mean hang on. The weight of the water hits you from above, and pushes you down, then it shifts, and buffets and tries to rip you off the walk way.

mellow yellow rock, a little rough music.

This is the arch, the window we call it locally in our Arab speech, people come to jump off it, one died recently. To jump off it today would be a bit more interesting I think. Potential warring politicians should be dangled on a rope till they forsake punitive strikes and just want to be pulled back from the brink of Hell. Peace, hope you enjoyed the photos. My camping devices, nuts and gear and various routes are now defunct, need some more, I guess. The push towards Berlin must continue.

Tuesday 24 November 2015

Syria, then we take Berlin, by Stevie Haston.

If you live in Belgique you might have been locked in your house for three days! By the end of the week Cameron AKA Pig stuffer to his friends and behind his back, might declare we are at war. 


 Theres a storm brewing, its supposed to be force 7 so I went to get my gear out of a project. It would rust otherwise. 

Calm as a duck pond, unlike the Middle East.

The storm in the East isn't going to go away anytime soon. Theres gonna be a bit more than rusted gear hard for me to concentrate today. But that was the point to get away hang upside down, dream about nice things and wreck my body.

A roof is sometimes good to distract, This roof is a master piece. Afterwards I take Berlin!


Monday 23 November 2015

Clash of the Titans, by Stevie the Midget Haston

 Jeff and I, me and Jeff.

Started work on Sector Titan today. It's going to be bolted all in Titanium, thus securing more peace of mind. It's a great cliff, quality stone. 

 this hard crack is going to go soon.

Good routes, good climbing, more fun and success, better bolts, stunning sunsets, an ocean of perfect beer, these my friends, are just some of the things, that are supercallfragelisticexpaladcous. If I spelt that right there's a blue moon out, or a politician with his Hapton Wick in a Pigs mouth.

 Bernd, Alex, and Jesse. the two guys just donated to Gozo climbing, and their gift will make a route.

 Not so perfect, but it will do.

Clash of the Titans, Titanic, give us a name, Colossal Tit (named after Cameron), send in your names for Sector Titan. 

 two of the three aretes that haven't been done.

This isn't Sector Titan, this huge clif 140 meters high only has one route, an old trad route thats not very secure, one of these aretes might go but there is a weeks cleaning on it. 

Friday 20 November 2015

Je suis Arab, by Stevie Haston.

 the 60 meter abseil into the Underworld.

Bernd and Jesse had there little adventure in zee Underworld. I payed the ferry man, he let us out.


 sombre cliffs surround us.

The inside of the big cave, was dark, the waves not to bad, but they still echoed, it didn't feel friendly. We chose a few mellow routes; Everlasting, Stix and Stoners, and Vampire Lats. I should say Vampire Lats is 7b, mellow if you'r a Vampire slayer.

 Bernd looking at a fossil on the entry to the Underworld.

Berd told me off about the bolts, he said the run outs were too spicy for ordinary people, I countered that they were "perfectly spaced, they were all paid for by me, placed by an expert with love, knowing how your hand would tremble with gratitude when you heard the reassuring click of the draw, announcing temporary safety".
 view from the top of Underworld, not bad!

Not feeling too perky we opted for early beers, and ruminated on steep stone as we took in the banalities of ordinary city life gorging itself on "terror porn".

 the door leading to the Underworld?

I still haven't done my last big link in the Underworld, Cyclops Slayer into Suffragettes 8b+, it's assuredly ++++ on zee arms, and I am frightened of the pain.

just a sign.

The sign above, is to show something, can you guess?  Je suis Arab. Hey, but, "Je ne suis pas Saudi", OK! What are we doing being in bed with the Saudis, the pushers of Wahhabism?


Thursday 19 November 2015

It's the Hammer, by Stevie the Mallet Haston.

 a pleasant grade 4.

A good days climbing with Jesse, Bernd,  and Alex. I had to climb with the Master, as he was chomping at the bit. The plan was to tire him, so he could climb with Jesse, and I could equip afterwards, it didn't work.

Scarpa Boosters, used to the max. Give me another pair please!

Bernd wanted to climb an arete, he has a fetish about aretes, well he would wouldn't he, he's done more perfect aretes than anyone in the world. I took him up Heart of Glass, he was pleasantly astounded at the quality! 

 top of Helwah.

We finished on Hewah ta Tork, which is one of my favourite routes, it looks horrifying, and is only mildly so! I abseiled in, and got drowned for a bit in the washing machine at the bottom. Bernd was reluctant to come down, it did look a trifle skidoo.

 Helwah ta Tork 6b+

My boots were soaked, water milk shake paste in a bag also, so Bernd donated his chalk, and we belayed out of the splash zone on the second bolt. After this it was tip top, spectacular on crispy wafers of burnt biscuit, and oven baked croissant, and a few layers of frosted sugar coated donut thrown in for good measure, all rock of course.  

nearly taking the plumet.

Me on zee nasty last move of Heart of glass, above photo! Tomorrow the team heads for the Underworld, it has an appointment with the three headed Hell Hound. Bernd is looking forward to it, well he would, wouldn't he?  His remark after seeing me at the top of Helwah was ace, "its the Hammer Stevie", indeed it is Bernd, "its the Hammer".

Wednesday 18 November 2015

Gozo climbing is good ya, by Stevie Haston.

 We have nice sunsets here, this is a sunrise.

The world is going to hell in a handcart and Iam going climbing. Mind you I always go climbing. When the Banker who advised Bush admits that the Iraq war was about oil, nobody gets upset. When a horrific killing in Paris takes place everybody takes notice. 

 The UIAA report showing stress corrosion cracking

The UIAA report on bolts and suggested materials for bolts is very clear on which material you should use. What is it going to take for people to wake up?  Bolts unless they are made of the right material are ticking time bombs.

 Jesse and Bernd after climbing beers, yes we have great climbing on Gozo. Bernd said Fruit Cake is as good as anywhere!

When I took the decision to use solely Titanium I was a bit scared that I was going too far, but yesterday I did a little check on a few bolts. Some expansion placed less than 2 years ago are extremely suspect. They were in a very worrying state-they are in one of the most exposed places, they get sun, chemicals, high humidity. I have left them, I am sure they will just disappear soon! I did an analysis of two, and they would in my opinion have taken falls. But not for long.

 this is 316 stainless placed at the same time as the expansion, in the same place, perfect!

In the same place as the Bad expansion bolts, are several Stainless 316 which vary from perfect, to 10 % showing "tea staining" these are perfectly ok for their job. They should be good for certainly a few years, but they need monitoring.

 less than 2 years!

A rusty bolt and a shot bird!

Climbing is a great sport, there were a dozen climbers from abroad climbing yesterday, having fun and contributing to the local economy. But who will maintain the bolts, who will supply the high grade expensive material, and who will do the work. Because I want to go climbing!

Sunday 15 November 2015

Jesus was Scotish, by Stevie Haston.



Have you noticed that Jesus often has red hair? Or is it just a slightly Auburn tint in the mediterranean sunset? In either case he doesn't really look very Palestinian, or Jewish. In fact our perception of Jesus and religion has more to do with Father Christmass, Christmas trees (not Carob trees), reindeer not Donkeys. Are we not confused, my people? When French President Holland says "we are going to lead a War which will be pitiless " is he referring to a new Hundred year war, or a brand new one, for he is all ready at war. This confusingly named Puppet President continually confuses me. War should have Pity, without Pity we are not human. Holland cannot be Human therefore. From 1946-1954 France was killing people in Indo China (todays Vietnam), from 1954- 1962 they were massacring,  and torturing Algerians. I guess before 1946 you could say they were occupied. Hopefully this won't come out as bad taste, but the bad taste that I have, is that somehow we are involved in World War 3, and most people think there won't be any collateral damage.



I worship at the church of rock, rock is not the foundation I built my church on, rock is my church. Do not worship other gods, or attend other churches, there is only one god.  Rock not Rock Music, Rock as in Stone. In fact I also live on a rock. Clearly I am an Extremist, in fact in England (the land of some people with ginger hair) the grades of rock climbs culminate in the grade of Extreme, and therefore we are Extremists. Personally I don't associate myself with things English, because I am a racist, my father had very Red hair, he was Scottish, and more unfortunate still he was an atheist. 



So, sadly, I was bereft of the bigotry that normal well adjusted religious fanatics had. I often felt sad about this. I lived in a Jewish quarter, went to catholic school, was taught by frustrated Irish nuns, had a couple of Jamaican friends who spoke with East End accents, every body was called names, nasty names, every one called every one nasty names, we were the poor, and nasty common vulgar people.  Like all psychotic antisocial kids I longed to be loved, and lived in a bubble. 



Until that is, I discovered Rock, before this  I was a disturbed troubled child with spots, who got confused doing the sign of the cross, I used to do it with the wrong hand. I didn't know which wave of immigrant I was, cos I was one of the new wave, we were definitely after the poor drunk Irish, and the Jewish folk were ahead of them, but we were the new lot, so we were called worse names. The Jamaicans came after my mum, then some Ugandan Indians, then whole bunch of different Indians, till Matzah balls were finally replaced by Onion Bhajis. 



The new immigrant wave didn't of course take into  account, the Vikings, the Angles, the Saxons, and of course the despicable "cheese munching collaborating French", they were so merciless, indeed pitiless, that we had to collaborate with them, otherwise they killed us. It's very sad that there was no fusion between these different cuisines, instead there was lots, and lots of gang fighting, gang fighting without Pity. I do remember there was a hiatus once, were we got totally confused and  we didn't know who to beat up, so we beat up "Iron Hoofs", cockney rhyming slang for poofs, you know left handers, guys who bat for the other side, rainbow people. 

Saturday 14 November 2015

Fast and Furia, Stevie Haston.

Sector Bruno.

 Iam having a rest day today, and it's not because of tragedy, Id like to make that clear. It's because I wanna go climbing tomorrow. Your getting a double post today, because, well to hell with it, climbing is greater than terror, and lousy governments. 
Death shall have lots of dominion over me, when it finally catches up with me, and I fear poverty and lots of other things, but I fear rain and bad conditions more. Tomorrow I got a mate coming over, and we will climb, next week two more mates, and we will climb more.

 Fast and Furious. Is the Furia, or the Scarpa Drago the best….

You need great routes, you need great form, you need great conditions, you don't need no wierd psycho terror thing going on. 

 Good form starts with precision foot wear and fit.

The heal on the Furia has got a little rib, and as every one knows little ribs add to sensitivity!

Heel hooking is part of my thing, so is upside down toe dragging to slow swings, I do love these shoes. I love climbing. The terror would be immense, if there was no climbing in my life, where would I hide?


I ave just worn out two pairs of shoes. The terror of running out of boots is apon me.

I would like to thank Ian Smith from Climber Magazine for sending me some stuff to help me with my ongoing projects, thanks Ian I needed that stuff. Every little bit helps, the routes get done slowly "with a little help from your friends". Sad day indeed, the saddest thing is that the governments are bringing this terror to our door steps. They are not fighting, terror they are causing it. 

Friday 13 November 2015

Break on thru to the Other Side, by Stevie Haston.

 A cliff on Gozo.

Faced with sad news, what can you do? 

 Water Taxi.

Life seems very temporary today, and fragile. Please be careful my friends, not just in France but everywhere. The consequence of awful actions is sometimes more awful still, and obviously it's not the guilty who will suffer-the innocent will often become the easy targets.

 some aquatic rubbish collection.



 Rubbish accumulating.

Obviously this blog was supposed to be something else, but I couldn't get my head around much. A nice day feeling good about doing good things was turned to dust. Remy  Bergasse died under tragic circumstances, and his enormous potential lost to us all. This was not eclipsed, but surpassed by greater numbers of deaths a few hours later, and all the good feelings disappeared.  



 le bon heur can sometimes be a bit far away.

Le bon heur, does not arrive so easily as this.

The breeze was fresh, the climbing was good, the evening superb. The news later was devastating. Be careful people. Actions beget actions, violence breeds violence, and it is the innocent who most often suffer. Please do not let this tragedy, turn into a lessening of freedom, please keep this a police matter, not a military one. Please keep the borders open.
Peace. 

Tuesday 10 November 2015

Magic Fungus and Fungus rock, by Stevie Haston.

 Lost a fin today, expensive.

It's illegal nowadays to climb Fungus rock, so please don't. We had permission, it's rarely given, so we were lucky. For those who won't get permission what's the story? Well it's a long one, around the year 1650 there was a cable car to the top, and guards living on it. So it was climbed years ago, proving what exactly, that Gozo was a climbing nation, or we were interested in Fungus. The name Fungus rock alludes to the strange fungus like parasitic plant that grows here.

 Water hole and collecting grooves.

Well this Fungus which was thought to be just endemic to this rock, but which has been recorded else where, looks like a penis, and is a red colour also. For this reason it was sold for supposed healing, or magical properties. So Fungus rock was a bit of climbing, a bit of medicine, and a bit of business.

view towards Azure window.

We were careful to walk on rocks, and do no damage, that's not too hard actually, you just take your time, and you don't damage a single plant, so it's not too hard to have no impact. There is a local, or isolated lizard too on the rock, he is interesting for his different colour, but normal size.

 Nice little cliff opposite, possible sport routes on the left and the obvious trad crack.

There has been some scientific research done recently that suggests that there may be some medicinal worth to the penis like plant, but it's still ongoing, or growing heehee.


 sizzling in the sun in November.

There were also fossilised sharks teeth found around the cliffs just north of here, and they were sold as Dragon teeth, so the knights of Saint John,  and /or the local Gozitans, were not averse to a bit of crafty selling.


the little carved room.  A troll protects the Fungas.

The little shelter were the two guards hung out, is complete with a few carved out niches, but is fairly unremarkable. Indeed it must have been a bit of a lonely, uncomfortable job.


the taxi home.

 We were reported for climbing the rock, and had to go to the police station to show our permit so don't be tempted to climb it. The routes are unremarkable in themselves, so you won't miss any quality, they are trad and rather loose, so in many ways your just better off looking at it! I climbed it when I was a kid, when there was no ban, but today the climbs else where on Gozo are much better. It's just a neat little story, and the local name Il Gebble tal General just means generals rock. I have seen spray going over the top of this rock in rough seas, which is a rare sight worth seeing, for it's over 40 meters high. The plants are salt proof, and there is a good sprinkling of the endemic flowering shrub Everlasting. Anyway there you go a little story.