Cresciano

It was a perfect opportunity to finally use the fantastic yellow boulder mat that I had received on my birthday. Cresciano, Cre-she-ano, of course I had heard of it, I had seen the pictures of Freddy Nicole on the super hard Dreamtime and now I was to get to see it in real life. Just one thing stood in my way, the super early start to get myself down town Milano.

Lecco station 06:45, the chilly early morning light didn't do much to warm the early birds lined up on the platform. I filled the time reading about Walter Bonatti and his solo travels. The train pulled into central station where I had arranged to meet Claudia, or rather Claudia had arranged to meet me. Claudia had forgotten to wake up. Advantage to the early bird.

Arriving at Cresciano we met Claudias friends, they had driven up from Finale, and were on the way back to Germany. Two I had met before, two were new to me and then there was Welsh Phil from Cardiff. We had with us two guides to the area, the rather general 'Bloc Notes' and the more useful 'Cresciano' guide. The photo diagrams were good once you had found the relevant boulder but the maps were not particularly easy to follow. The boulders of Cresciano run along a steep hillside and are shaded by trees. It was a hot day, but we managed to remain cool, even through midday.

I had bouldered both on the gritstone of the Peak District and on the sandstone of Fontainebleau. This was granite, it was rough and it was sharp, my fingers soft and weak. Starting with caution since none of us had a good comprehension of the grades, we soon learnt that it was quite different in respect to the french sports grading system. Even the 'easy' problems seemed hard. I guess it was a matter of getting used to the rock, and the style of movements it required.

We were climbing in the 5b - 6b range. There seemed to be a good selection at this grade, with aretes, traverses and slabs. Foot work was important, there was a lot of slap, slip, smearing action going on. Once again I regretted not changing my rock boots for a pair with more subtle rubber. By the end of the day we had under our belts a collection of routes, and a wealth of experience.

On the second day we couldn't resist a peek at Dreamtime. What a stunning line, and unbelievable to think it could be climbed. Instead of being motivated to climb harder our level went down a little. Perhaps we were tired, the problems became more frustrating. My feet were once again crying out to be released from those torturous shoes. I made a point to listen to them.