A climbing equipment review by Zofia Reych

Mont Blanc. © Andy Day / @kiellgram

After a few years in London, an invitation to join a group of friends for a weekend of bouldering in the Peak District was my first-ever excuse to explore beyond the capital. Until then, all I had known of England were Underground zones one to three, but I was still outdoorsy at heart, and pretty sure I knew what to pack. Being early October and with the city still balmy with golden, autumn sunshine, I wore leggings and low-ankle hiking shoes and stuffed my climbing gear in a small backpack. I picked up a short trench coat, fingerless gloves and a scarf. I imagined myself standing over Stanage Edge, Keira Knightly-style, posing for a picture.

With zero experience in outdoor bouldering, I had no idea I’d messed up even before leaving London. In Sheffield, I was still doubtful as my friends packed extra clothing for me: old down jackets, skiing mittens, and a pair of oversized wellies. It soon became clear that, fashionable as my own outfit was, it could not stand up to the wild winds lashing against the Peak’s outcrops. By the time we walked from the car to Stanage Plantation, I knew the extent of my mistake — without the hand-me-downs, I wouldn’t have lasted an hour.

That weekend I learned that autumn in the English countryside can merit a jacket warmer than skiing in the Alps and, as my fingers bled an hour into our session, I vowed to become comfortable in this new environment. A couple of years later, and by then a proud owner of both my own down jacket and a crashpad, I ended up moving to Sheffield.

Fast forward another ten years, I still might not be the hardy grit climber that I wished to be, but I have bouldered all over the world, and at least I know how to dress for it. We now live in Fontainebleau, I own more pairs of climbing shoes than regular shoes, and I have perfected my bouldering set-up so that it keeps me comfortable in any conditions.

CLIMBING SHOES

The biggest climbing shoe faux pas I have ever made was wearing my sharp gym shoes for a trad multi-pitch in Wales. While I’m convinced that nothing could be quite as bad, choosing the right shoe is important in any climbing scenario. For sandstone — both Fontainebleau and the English grit — I typically wear a pair of extremely well-worn Scarpa Dragos. Their flexible soles stick like magic to smears, the soft rubber easily molding to every shape and grain. For edges and pebbles, and steeper climbs in general, my shoe of choice is Butora Gomi — still a soft velcro slipper, easy to put on and take off, but with more rigidity and a sharper edge than the Drago. These two pairs come with me on every bouldering trip and almost every session — unless it’s summer in Fontainebleau when nothing feels better than cruising easy circuits barefoot.

I usually walk in a pair of barefoot sneakers such as the classic Vivo Barefoot Primus Trail II. For extremely cold days, I have my mum’s old leather hiking shoes — resoled with Vibram rubber, they’re as good as they were twenty years ago and will likely last a lifetime. They’re also a size too big, able to accommodate a woollen sock, and still allow my toes a well-deserved break from being crammed into a climbing slipper.

BOULDERING PADS

Bouldering can be a very social endeavour but I enjoy climbing alone the most. This means that I often carry multiple crash pads, with four being the most I can pile on my back.

Many excellent pads that work great for bigger climbers are practically impossible for me to walk with. Being short and light, finding the right pad involves taking into account both its weight and carrying system. Alpkit pads have the best combination of foam quality to weight, with very comfortable shoulder and hip straps. I most frequently use one of their now-discontinued taco models. My all-time favourite had a flap designed to go under the folded pad so that all the gear stuffed inside would not fall out when walking. I still hope it will be relaunched.

The most similar currently available pad is the Origin. It’s got a comfortable backpack-style carrying system, meaning that throwing another pad on top of it is not a problem at all. I usually carry a Mujo on top of the Origin, loosening its shoulder straps to the max and using them to attach it on top of the first pad. For extra safety on really high falls, swapping the Origin for the massive Project Hinge is a great option. Despite its size, the Project is still relatively light with a stable carrying system that feels more comfortable than many much smaller pads. Even a Project-plus-Mujo combo is still easy to walk with, not wasting any precious energy needed for the climbing itself.

Climbing on soft sandstone, a piece of carpet or a towel to clean the shoes is de rigueur regardless of the pad set up. Making sure there are no grains of sand, or soil, on the soles of the shoes is not only crucial for sticking to the holds but, even more importantly, prevents unnecessary rock erosion. Many old-school bleausard(e)s still forgo a bouldering pad altogether, opting for only a doormat. Wrapped in a piece of an old cloth, a bit of pof resin is the traditional predecessor to climbing chalk. While this solution is less and less popular among the boulders of Bleau, the discussion on the pros and cons of pof vs chalk is ongoing.

CHALK, BRUSHES, TAPE

Most often, all of my climbing gear gets stuffed into a couple of tote bags which then get squashed inside a bouldering pad. (Admittedly, pads featuring a hinge-style fold are not designed to be used in that way, and wearing a backpack in the front can significantly prolong their life.) Apart from climbing shoes and a towel, I always throw in a tube of Chalk Rebels seawater-based cream chalk, and a few brushes. Sadly, my favourite Black Diamond brush got lost, and I’ve replaced it with a random wooden brush which the forest provided — the bristles may not be as nice but they do the job. (Constantly lost and found, brushes seem to circulate in bouldering areas like some kind of ritualistic gift.)

A telescopic brush is a very practical solution for cleaning holds high off the ground but, after losing two or three of those, I have given up on them. Instead, when the need arises, I tape one of my regular brushes to a long stick, and voila.

Non-stretch Strappal tape, available in most pharmacies in France, is a popular choice among Fontainebleau climbers for supporting sore digits. Recently, I have made the bold leap to a new local brand, Monkey TV Shop tape. Similarly to brightly painted fingernails, its fun, vibrant colours give +10 to crimping power. It is also non-stretch and, unlike Strappal, doesn’t leave a residue of sticky glue.

WARMING UP SET UP

Warming up off the rock is one of the best injury prevention strategies and a must in areas without any easier climbs. An exercise band is like a full gym set up in a pocket — there are always one or two of those bands in my climbing bag, most often the blue-coloured ones from Decathlon. In addition, I am never without a Mini Bar from Lattice Training, paired with an old sling and a carabiner to hang it off a tree. It is super portable and can be used not only to get the fingers going but also for a host of TRX-style exercises that target the arms, shoulders and back.

CLOTHING

There’s enough clothing on the planet to dress the next six generations, so the best clothing is always repaired or second-hand. For bouldering, it really doesn’t matter how many holes there are in your leggings and that your tee has seen better days.

I have a few hand-me-downs from my mum that are still almost as good as new despite being twenty, thirty, or even forty years old. Unfortunately, modern high-street clothing doesn’t seem to last, so I’ve also invested in just a few new pieces that now form the core of my wardrobe: Patagonia’s Pack Out reinforced tights and a Fjord flannel shirt. I also own a couple of tees from a friend-owned brand, Humbrl. Inspired by the Balkans, Humblr items are hand-printed in Germany, and many of them are upcycled, turning old, unwanted clothes into bold bouldering fashion statements.

WINTER UPGRADES

When temperatures drop close to freezing and a bitter wind is howling among the boulders, it is time to get out my ridiculous expedition-grade parka. (Given that my previous downie lasted over a decade, I am determined to take even better care of the new one and make it last even longer.) As my first winter layer, I use Merino Oasis 200 long sleeves and leggings from Icebreaker. After a few seasons, they tend to get ladders, but if you repair them quickly, you can use them for years. My other winter essentials are oversized mittens and a windproof beanie.

During my time in Sheffield, I purchased a large Thermos flask which, many years later, still keeps my tea warm for hours on end. (I’ve also dropped it more than once and it still has never leaked.) A fresh ginger and honey infusion is the best pick me up on cold days, and the flask can also be used in the summer to keep your water icy cold.

All photos © Andy Day / @kiellgram

Zofia's book, Born to Climb – a cultural history of rock and competition climbing – is available HERE.