Wet Sockets | Matteo Arnodo

You may have had those days when you just don't feel like climbing alone: Saturday was one of those days.

After a change of destination dictated by the weather I head towards the Aosta Valley with ideas still confused about what to do when I see Ricky's car in the parking lot of the "usual" bar; I don't think twice and I stop. I decide to join him to accompany him to Champorcher: he is really close to climbing a boulder in the upper sector and I am motivated to accompany him.

When we reach the parking lot the situation is quite wet, but no one is stopping us from checking it out. We each take a crash pad and climb up. When we reach the rock we see that the upper part of the block is completely wet. We start to wander around the various rocks trying to understand what we can climb on, but everything seems to be in the same condition. In the meantime we ask ourselves about alternatives, about drying the holds with a rag or waiting for the few rays of afternoon sun. The climb of the block in question "Isosceles Right" is not too hard, but requires you to place your left foot in inversion (in slang "squash") on a plate and put your weight on it before reaching a very good hold.

After about an hour of hesitation and “back and forth” along the forest paths, we try to see if drying our feet with a towel increases our level of safety… it doesn’t. Here comes the change of perspective, or “let’s try something else and that’s it” (always in jargon).

"Idea 92" is dry, and we try that. The day ends in an afternoon of serenity and nice attempts on hard moves that give us improvements.

We are used to experiencing climbing in this way and we don't mind resigning ourselves to events that we can't control, like the weather. We could have dried our feet with a fan or a blower but this doesn't seem to be in the spirit of the outdoors, because it's substantially different from what happens in the gym. In the gym, holds are screwed in, changed... Here, however, you mainly have to wait for the right moment.

I don't want to be controversial, but simply share what I feel: perhaps we are getting used to seeing climbers use tools or techniques that shift the figure of the climber from "adapted" to "adaptor"?

I would like to add that we often focus too much on climbing the boulder and too little on what is around us.

What would you have done?” In the photo Riccardo Monetta, "Idea 92"