And it is with this in mind I look to the next 12 months and to some very exciting plans.

The last year has seen me based in Chamonix in the French Alps, which has been truly fantastic. World class climbing of all disciplines has been on my doorstep, and this is a luxury I am not going to give up quite yet.

My two most memorable routes from 2011 were certainly the North Face of the Eiger (check out my UKC article) in the spring and the North Face of the Matterhorn (check out my writing) in the autumn.

In between these two routes I did a whole host of rock climbing, including ticking a line I had been after for a while in Wales (UKC News). However I didn’t achieve my main rock climbing ambition of the year, which was to climb 8c. You can’t win them all.

I am now looking forward to next year, with some plans to climb with some really exciting people. Nick Bullock and I are hoping for some major sea cliff action in the summer, and Rob Greenwood and I are hoping for some big mountain action in the autumn.

Squeezed in between that will be more attempts at becoming a sport climber.

But until the climbing season starts – I just would like to say… it’s snowing in Chamonix and that means… POWDER SKIING!!!!

If you know James McHaffie, you will know that he is a half decent climber, and generally a pretty okay bloke, although he doesn’t have the best luck with cars.

He’s always got a smile (see below) and has been instructing for quite a few years now. If I was looking for someone to drag me up a cliff, I’d choose him. Mainly because he’s pretty cheap. And he’s dragged me up loads of cliffs before, so I know he can do it.

• Here he is: Jamesmchaffie.com

Please pass the link around so that James gets lots of work instructing, which means he can afford a trip to climb Silbergier in the Ratikon with me next summer (back to that being dragged up cliffs thing again).

Enjoy this photo:

Here, professional instructor James McHaffie is indicating that he will take a maximum of two clients on his rock climbing days. You can book him on his site: Jamesmchaffie.com

Here he is: Jamesmchaffie.com

But for the time being I’m having a short break from climbing. I’ll be popping down the wall a couple of times a week to keep in reasonable shape, but not training or striving for a specific goal.

For those interested, and especially members of ‘The Mill’ back in North Wales – here’s a photo of Jonny on the private training wall in Chamonix. The two system boards are on electric motors that can be adjusted to any angle. There’s a large campus board, a few hangboards and a new large board about to be built (steel in place) and a bouldering area at the back. Behind me is also a full gym, with exercise bikes, weight machines etc.

A superb facility.

Naked Jonny at the private training wall, Chamonix

We were probably off-route, but the angle and the terrain meant that you could climb anywhere, albeit with a degree of trepidation. I was tired. I wouldn’t say exhausted, as I know, through experience, just how far in to exhaustion it is possible to push. Still, the going was slow. My stomach churned with nausea, my head boomed with altitude. We’d not slept the night prior, and I’d come straight from sea level. I felt weak.

The rope snaked out ahead, Rob above me. We were moving together with a lot of rope between us, as protection was so scarce it came only every hundred metres or so, and even then it was poor. For much of the time there was nothing but our tools holding us to the face, no gear to be had. Brittle, paper-thin ice was splashed over the rotten gneiss. Crampons ripped and axes shifted behind loose rubble. The climbing was easy, perhaps Scottish III, but we were tired, a thousand sunless metres behind us testament to that. We stopped briefly to take stock, still unsure how far there was left to go.

Succinctly we voiced our concerns to one another, our words zipping down the rope like telegrams; If one of us fell, we’d most likely both die. We were tired. We needed to push on to try and reach the descent before nightfall. We must heed caution.

And so we continued. Unbeknown to us a party had fallen from the route we were on, just the day before. Seven hundred metres they fell. One died, the other sustained horrendous injuries. We didn’t know. We carried on climbing.

Up ahead Rob had discarded his axes and was climbing bare-handed, he’d decided that although his hands were freezing, it was less tenuous than climbing with tools. The thought never crossed my mind, and I continued mixed climbing up the rotten rock. I lifted my axe and suddenly both my feet ripped down. I slid, just a short way, maybe four inches. The low angle of the wall meant my single axe was enough to keep me in balance. I kicked my feet and carried on. Fuck.

There was no point retreating, not that we wanted to. A thousand metres of suffering lay below us, ropes catching on loose rock, poor abseil anchors, traversing. With only a couple of rope-lengths to the summit ridge, the easiest way to retreat would be to ascend. We carried on climbing. We wanted to, but also, we had to.

I hoped Rob wouldn’t fall. He, I’m sure, tried his best not to. I thought about why I was there. I noticed my feet were a little cold, but not too bad. I felt a bit sick. My mind wandered, until it concluded that this was, in fact, a very dangerous place. Thinking of danger, I remembered that my face still hurt. Lower down the route I’d been hit by a brick-sized piece of ice, dislodged by a climber above. It hit me square in the face, bursting my cheek, and splashing blood on the ice, like red wine on a beige carpet. I was nearly knocked off and nearly knocked out. Rob said it looked okay. The bleeding had stopped after another pitch.

Jesus. Why was I there? What exactly was I getting out of this, I wondered. Nothing. I was tired and it was cold. We’d been out of the wind all day, but now, as we approached the ridge, it had picked up. At least its chill numbed my aching face. I thought about a woman I might be in love with. And the children we might have one day. I thought I might tell her. I knew I wouldn’t though, of course. The rope tugged, I kept climbing.

A couple of days later, Jon asked us how the route was. “Fine” we said. “A bit loose, but pretty easy”. And it was.

The Matterhorn. Photo by Rob Greenwood.

The weather played ball (just about) and master photographer Jon Griffith snapped a load of shots of my ugly mug on some classic routes at the Cornish venues of Sennen, Land’s End, Bosigran and Gurnards Head. The photos are for the next Cotswold catalogue, and I think I am on the cover, but unfortunately not climbing, there was a few ‘lifestyle’ shots.

Jon was shooting with a 5d MKII and a couple of different lenses, both from the top and from abseil ropes, and I was climbing. The routes we did, I either climbed in a one-er, or climbed with a couple of pauses hanging on the gear as Jon repositioned. It was really good fun, and Jon was a legend to work with.

The hardest route we did was up the side of the hotel after Jon locked himself out of his room! But I also nipped up Ghost at Bosigran and Mastadon at Gurnards Head, both classic E3′s and both Extreme Rock ticks. I’d done them before, but you can’t grumble at getting to hang out on pieces of rock like that and getting paid for it.

Some photos from the shoot (all photos copyright Jon Griffith):

Jack on Mastadon at Gurnard's Head

Hanging about at Bosigran

Night shot at Bosigran (1am finish!)

Despite quite bad shoulder impingement I managed to climb 7 days out of 9 and have a great time in the boiling sunshine.

• More info on Céüse here on UKC and here on Rockfax.

It was fantastic to unplug from the internet for a week. The weather was so hot that it was only an option to climb in the shade of the late afternoon, meaning mornings were a splendid mixture of coffee, relaxation, shoulder exercises and poetry writing. How lovely.

Neither Jude or myself were on top climbing form, but we both managed some classics and had a brilliant time on the perfect solid limestone. I was still onsighting up to 7c, so can’t really complain too much.

Jude lowering off Femme Noir

Jude climbing the classic 7c Femme Noir. A toughie!

My focus was to tick a line at Craig Dorys that I had my eye on, as well as do a couple of classic routes, and to add in some catching up with as many of my friends as possible in the evenings. It was a success all round.

The first day Maddie, Ian and I all headed to Craig Dorys and Maddie and I set about the new line, The Bigger Bang (UKC Report). Ian was, unfortunately, slightly worse for wear after the previous nights excesses at Crazy Rob’s house. Luckily for me I went to bed after 7 pints, so I was okay. Ian left early to go to a reggae night and Maddie and I carried on climbing.

I got to test my (as yet unpatented) ‘tent pegs and chain’ abseil anchor. Maddie was well psyched…

Maddie looking slightly apprehensive as she abs in to Jacuzzi Zawn off some tent pegs!

The route went okay, with a bit of cheating in the form of a bit of preplaced gear. Why not. Craig Dorys eh. You can get away with murder down there!

Anyway, after my go, which I enjoyed immensely, Maddie had a shot and after a bit of upping and downing and umming and aahing, she tied on and gave it a proper go and fell off on the last hard move on to some small RPs.

Maddie tying on before her big lead attempt...

Evening came, and we were knackered, so we opted to head back to Llanberis for a curry. Unfortunately the car had broken down, so Rob the champion came and picked us up (what a legend) and the farmer’s brother was duly called and said he could get us a new water pump and sort us out the following day.

Car abandoned, curry eaten, forecast checked. It wasn’t looking good for the next day.

Chris Doyle on his 8b Project at Pigeon's Cave

As forecast, the next day was wet, but we headed to Pigeon’s Cave on the Orme, and thrashed around on overhanging greasy limestone. Chris tried his project which looked really good, but very hard. And Pete tried The Crack Project, which also looked nails. I flashed Koo for a ‘warm up’ and then proceeded to fall off the last move of Koo Koo about three times in a row and gave up as it started properly pissing it down. Nice!

Pete Robins on The Crack Project at Pigeon's Cave

Anyway, that was all a bit damp, but good to see a bit of Ormes psyche from the team.

The next day we nipped back down the Lleyn to get my mum’s car from the farmer, and we headed to Vatican Zawn.

Rob, Calum and Maddie in Vatican Zawn

Being on a tight time schedule, we only had time for one route per team, and Maddie and I decided to do the classic E3 Path to Rome. It’s a great route and one I have done many times before, but as this was Maddie’s first trip to the Lleyn, it was a ‘must do’ for her.

Maddie making short work of Path to Rome

Rob and crew did some sort of variatio on another E3 that had some ‘terrain’ at the top. Rob pulled off a block and then danced around on the remaining house of cards for a bit, before finally committing to a 4b move and topping out through the hanging gardens of Babylon to glory.

And then it was back to France, all too soon. Oh well. Sport climbing it is then!

I have one more project left in North Wales that I would like to do, and I think it will wait until next spring now. We shall see. Next on the horizon is a trip to Ceuse and then maybe some alpine north faces.

Cheers to all in Llanberis who made the visit special, including: Wraith, JBG, Young Ollie, Crazy Rob, Mandi, Alex, Pete, James and everyone else. The village seemed super psyched!

Smash it in guys!

Here’s some photos!

The hut under the main crag - with routes up to 9a+ - gorgeous!

Me on the classic 7c+

Maddie on the classic 7c+

Ug smashing in another hammock session!

Maddie on a 7c flared crack. I dug deep and smashed this in the boiling temperatures; greasy finger-locks are us. Maddie came back for a rematch a few days later and also smashed! Go Maddie!

Other more normal, documented problems were also climbed, and all that after a 4am finish due to ‘Chamonix Nights’ the previous evening…

Maddie on one of Ug's special 'Warm-up' problems... the girl can crimp!

Me on one of the best problems in this particular forest - a lovely 7b/+ ish sit start roof groove thang. Nice (Video below).

Maddie showing her guns on the 7b/+ thing.

• Report 1: Caff makes a big bang!
• Report 2: Throbber links some very hard things together.

Oh how I miss it! Looking forward to September and a visit back ‘home’.

Anyway – back to the point – ‘Get Your Psyche On!’ And right now I have got mine on. Oh yes!

I know that James McChav is a totally amazing climber. I have witnessed this first hand on many occasions, and some of the things I have seen him do have proved to me that he is in a league or two above me.

Is he the strongest climber I have ever seen? No way. Is he the most technically talented climber I have ever seen? No. Is he the craziest, boldest climber I have ever seen? Nope. So what is he? He’s a war machine.

James has made the first repeat of The Big Bang (9a). How? By smashing it to pieces. By getting up at God knows what time to do 400 pull ups before a day out in the Welsh hills taking people mountain camping, and probably doing 200 sit ups and 200 push ups in his tent whilst everyone else is sleeping. By calling in at the Cromlech boulders time and again after work and doing laps and laps and laps until he was totally exhausted and his fingers were bleeding.

By saying no to that beer and that cake and that chocolate bar.

And by never, ever giving up until he had smashed it right in.

I have seen James do this on many, many trad routes. It’s the same thing, but over a different time period. This redpoint has taken him a while. Training, fighting, struggling. The same fight goes on when he’s on a trad onsight. He steps on to the rock and you just know he’s up for going the full 12 rounds, right to the bitter end.

After just 5 minutes on the phone with James I am more psyched than I have been for a good few months.

Better get on that finger board… and get back on that 8c I have been trying at Flaine. I am going to go and every time I am going to be ready for the full 12 rounds. Ding Ding!!

James – I shake your hand and I congratulate you again. And I hope the psyche that you have passed on means that before the year is out you will be shaking my hand too! Thanks!

Me on Delerium Tremens (8c) at Dalle d'Oiseau Rare, Flaine. I have had three short sessions on this route and feel it is definitely on for a redpoint, even though I pulled a hold off just after the crux! A bit harder now, doh!