Verdon, sweet Verdon...
Very early wake up this Thursday for the departmental team's climbers. We're heading south to the mythic cliffs of Verdon! I've got a cracked rib thanks to my brother's punch, but I decided it won't take my weekend down. Just arrived at the camping place and we take our gears to have a climb on the sector of "Dalles Grises". We discover there what makes Verdon's cliff so epic: the water-dropped grips, the height and the wind contribute to a very unique ambiance. Tom and I climbed "Sucepé" (lien), a beautiful line in the grey slabs, while others climbed "Surveiller et Punir", or "Chlorochose".
Back to the campement, each one decide where to go tomorrow. Some already experiemented will go in some big artificial climbing lines like "Pourquoi j'ai mangé mon père", or "Les Chariots de Thepsis" on the magnificient Red Cliff (Paroi Rouge), hihgly motivated to sleep at the foot of the cliff. Others (like our dream team Tom, Maëlys and I) chose to try their mentals abilities on some legendary lines like La Demande, Orni, Tuyau d'Orgues...
We decided to go on La Demande, one of the first and oldest climbing line, opened in 1968 and achieved in integral solo (without any rope or belay gears) by Patrick Berhault, who climbed up AND down before going on with another solo afterward! We walked into the step of history, but with the only difference that we had all our gears... Which don't erase the fear paradoxaly!
On Saturday we learnt more about the artificial climbing, and we hammered so many pitons that the cliffs seemed to be visited by a strange squad of convicts, smashing stones in prison...
Short and lazy day for me, as my rib which kept the silence until now protested violently against the effort... I spent the day lying in the sun and belaying Oscar, our future possessor of his Baccalauréat.
Sunday found us early in the morning, preparing our stuff to climb quickly and leave the place at 3 p.m, before the traffic jam. As my rib was still outraged of all this climbing, I let Amandine do all the stuff as top-rope leader in the unpronounceable "Barbapoupon". A very comfy position, where I had nothing to think about except climbing this perfect rock. I couldn't thanks her enough for this!
In spite of our anticipation on the traffic, we finally arrived in Grenoble at 10 p.m, after 7 hours of driving instead of the 4 usual hours...
