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Monday, 20 February 2006
Rock Climbing: Justin Hawkins in Majorca
"Venga venga”, “Komm an”, “Getcha kom”, “Go Justin”, they cry huddled on a ledge at the bottom of the cliff. Then I can hear their laughter as my arms start to look like chicken wings. They know it and I know it… I am about to take a one-way ticket down, 20 meters into the water. For the first 15m of the sea-cliff, my style had been relaxed, breathing smoothly while planning the moves ahead. But as the lactic acid starts to build I find myself relying solely on instinct. No hope of calling for the rope. I can feel myself losing the game. I look around, frantic, trying to see any hold big enough to rest. I find a big under-cut grip, but it’s wet. Desperately trying to chalk my hands, I pull on the wet under-cut. ‘Pop’. My hand slips straight out. Suddenly, I feel my body going down, down, down…I hit the water. The climb has taken all the air out of my lungs and now I am underwater desperate for air. After what feels like eternity my head breaks the surface. Everyone looks at me. “Are you ok?” Tony shouts. I give the thumbs up and everyone lets out a whoop. The vibe is infectious and I break out with a massive smile on my face.
Majorca has always conjured up images of lazy drunken tourists worshiping their sun god. But there’s another side. While the warm Mediterranean water and pristine beaches do offer some awesome chill value, years of erosion on the limestone cliff have given climbers a new discipline - Deep Water Soloing (DWS). Climbing without the fancy equipment, just a pair of board shorts, shoes and a chalk bag, you climb up the cliff until you top out or fall into the sea.
While climbing in Switzerland this March with my good Norwegian friend Torstein, I met Tony Lamprecht, a massive guy with psych and personality to match. He had developed many of the lines in Majorca and mentioned that he was returning in September. Climbing in the Arctic Circle makes you dream of a Mediterranean climate.
And now we’re there, ordering a drink to celebrate our arrival and the reunion of friends. I realized this was indeed heaven. A single shot in Majorca is the equivalent of a triple anywhere else in the world. Next thing I knew I was woken up by the scorching sun and the crunch in my mouth made me wonder if it was such a good idea to sleep on the beach. With no recollection of arriving, I felt like I had washed ashore on an abandoned paradise island. I stumble around this oasis, trying to find the others. Torstein had slept in a small cave on the side of the beach, while the others had set up camp in the trees. This tropical island would be our home for the next 3 weeks. Apart from the cows (which destroyed my tent in search of food) I knew that this was indeed the good life. I was living on a nudist beach, on the far eastern side of the island near a town called Porto Cristo.
It was time for some DWS. Usually the water is surprisingly soft with the surface being broken by the waves. This means that a fall from 15m isn’t a big issue – provided you fall straight. On one route an unexpected slip sent me flying sideways. Frantically I tried to wave my arms to position myself for entry but it all happened too quickly. I hit the water sideways and felt the air explode out of my lungs. The swell was massive and I knew I had to relax, but a swell that large can make exiting the water quite tricky.
One of the best climbers at the moment is my mate Chris Sharma. Together with one of the other guys, Nate, we swam out to a huge magical arch about 20m height. Chris was in love with this arch and it became his goal. We tried climbing around the bottom 10m without much luck. I became convinced that it was impossible, but Chris was determined. He spotted a line consisting of massive jumps between tiny holds. He attempted it and broke through our previous high point. This is all he tried after that. He didn’t manage to get higher than half way, and we were exhausted and wanting to go home. Under the setting sun, Chris decided to leave it for another day.
The next day I finally got back on the route I had been trying – ‘Tarantino’. I cruised up the first half finding comfort in the fact that everything was dry. Upon feeling the undercut grip I knew that I had it - my confidence was bursting. I pulled through and all of a sudden I was at my high point and feeling good – I knew I couldn’t fall from this height. Remaining focused, I reached the final jug. I was ecstatic and on top of paradise.
Photos of Justin's trip to Majorca
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