\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n<!–
\n \/* Style Definitions *\/
\n p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
\n\t{mso-style-parent:"";
\n\tmargin:0cm;
\n\tmargin-bottom:.0001pt;
\n\tmso-pagination:widow-orphan;
\n\tfont-size:12.0pt;
\n\tfont-family:"Times New Roman";
\n\tmso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
\n@page Section1
\n\t{size:595.3pt 841.9pt;
\n\tmargin:70.85pt 2.0cm 2.0cm 2.0cm;
\n\tmso-header-margin:35.4pt;
\n\tmso-footer-margin:35.4pt;
\n\tmso-paper-source:0;}
\ndiv.Section1
\n\t{page:Section1;}
\n–>
\n
\nby Antoine Le Menestrel
\n
\n
\nLA ROSE ET LE VAMPIRE
\nFirst ascent: 1986
\nRoute opener:Antoine Le Menestrel
\nGrade: 8b (one of the first 8b’s, if not the first)
\nText written between 1986 and 2007
\n
\nPRESENTATION
\nThe crag of Buoux is filled with history, from the first routes opened by aid climbing with\u00a0 pitons to the most difficult routes. Among the many stories, I will tell you about my Buoux and its famous route, "La rose et le vampire". Climbing is the story we experience. Life is one pitch. Climbing shows us, through the mirror of the ascent, our own different facets. Height generates a challenge, our climbing partner belays our life. At the foot of the rock lies the choice of a pitch making a wish come true. I choose a universe, a difficulty, an effort, the beauty of a "line", its story.
\nIt is with these needs that my desire to climb is expressed, almost a primitive hunger.Buoux is a magical place. If the wish grows inside of me it means that a story experienced will emerge to the surface of my being, just like champagne bubbles in a little corner of paradise where the Aiguebrun runs all year round.
\n
\nHISTORY
\nLife in Buoux began in the Stone Age, 125,000
\nyears ago. The Neanderthals lived here for a
\nperiod lasting roughly 90,000 years. In the
\nNeolithic period, roughly 6,000 BC, after Wurm’s
\nlast glaciation, caves were used as burial
\nplaces: almost 200 tombs have been dug out
\ndirectly from the rock.
\nDuring medieval times the Aiguebrun valley was
\nwithout a doubt an area for hermits, definitely
\ninfluenced by a form of ascetism originating in
\nSyria: stilitism (from the Greek stylos:
\ncolumn). These "athletes of God" lived on top of
\nhigh columns absolutely immobile. The basins,
\nstaircases, holes for supporting beams and the
\nwater channels could be attributed to them.
\nAfter scientific studies it is thought that
\nthose carvings in the rock were made in the 8th
\ncentury (era of Charlemagne), during periods of
\noverpopulation.
\n
\nROCK
\nThe rock is formed from urgonian molasse which
\ndates back to the Miocene period (between 12 and
\n25 million years ago). It is a sedimentary rock,
\nmade from the succession of stratified marine
\ndeposits: by climbing a metre of rock one
\ncrosses about twenty million years worth of the
\nearth’s history. Buoux’s rock is unique and
\nspecial: without cracks, it resists freezing and
\nconsequently time. Its Latin name is mola and is
\nderived from its use for carving out mill-stones
\nfrom the rock. The crag’s shape is round and
\nwarm, voluptuous and coloured.
\n
\nITS OPENING
\nIn 1985 Laurent Jacob, Jean Baptiste Tribout, my
\nbrother Marc and I, were in search of the most
\nextreme lines achievable.
\nIt was Laurent Jacob with an inexhaustible
\npassion for opening routes who introduced us to
\nthe joys of equipping; discovering a line,
\nequipping it in the best possible way in order
\nto let other climbers repeat it, finally having
\nthe honour of leaving one’s name at the foot of
\nthe route after having freed it. He continuously
\nperfected his equipment; etrieres, hand
\nperforator and he would bring pitons with him
\nwhich were available to all the other equippers.
\nWe did not want to force a move creating a route
\nto be done over again just for the sake of it,
\ninstead we tried to adapt to the rock following
\nthe path towards which the mineral score led us
\nalong. It was not about exploiting a piece of
\nrock, but following the allure of a beautiful
\nline. It is an honour for us as equippers to be
\nin contact with a virgin area. There are very
\nfew in the world: they are precious.
\nOur job as equippers is to tame the naked rock
\nand to continue nature’s creation by
\ntransforming it. This is what I mean by being
\ncreative in adapting to the rock\u0160
\nWhile we abseiled down, one question tormented
\nus: would there be enough holds? This was the
\nbiggest uncertainty.
\nThe day I descended for the first time, what a
\nmarvel, there were holds, but they were too
\nsmall to climb the route at the time. In spite
\nof everything, the will to climb pushed me to
\nconsolidate a few holds and improve other ones;
\nnonetheless there is no hold chipped which comes
\nfrom nowhere; the rock dictated my work, but I
\nadded a creative part to the moves.
\nThere was no limit between improving the holds
\nand the size of them! I could only judge from my
\nown personal appreciation. When I equipped this
\npitch I gave it a direction, vertical, and
\nalready in this sense I was the one to intervene.
\nSuccessively I worked on the holds till they no
\nlonger hurt. Before the advent of sports
\nclimbing this practice did not exist, rarely did
\none intervene on holds simply because there was
\nno red pointing, but with sports climbing it is
\ninconceivable to repeat a movement on a sharp
\nhold.
\nFor me, the action of improving holds
\nrepresented a lack of respect for future
\ngenerations. I would open routes for the line,
\nthe movements, the challenge. I then moved on
\nfrom an individual dimension to a cultural
\ndimension because I linked "La rose et le
\nvampire" to the climbing community.
\nThe wish to express myself chipping a pitch
\nwould have revealed itself as an end in itself.
\nYou cannot have everything. After this
\nexperience I thought that I had forced the rock
\ntoo much: I was no longer creative in adapting
\nto the rock but I became a creator of routes.
\nIt has been with the advent of climbing gyms
\nthat I have been able to channel this
\ncreativity; in the crags I would have continued
\nto open routes respecting the playing field. I
\nstarted creating moves on the campus board,
\nwhich became a clean slate to work on, a support
\nwhich gave vent to my unfulfilled dreams
\nregarding original routes. I thus became creator
\nof artificial routes and the first international
\ncompetition route setter.
\nThis represented a second revelation, because
\nwhile I created a route on an artificial
\nstructure I arranged the holds writing a script
\nwith gestures whose drama would be interpreted
\nby the athletes. This brought me to rank the
\nsequences depending on the type of difficulty
\nwhich I would encounter. I thus discovered that
\nI was a choreographer!
\n
\nAVOIDING CHIPPED HOLDS
\nWhat I like about free climbing in the
\nenvironment is having an intimate relationship
\nwith the rock. The less human intervention there
\nis, the fewer voluntary acts of creating holds
\non the rock, the more my soul can feel in
\ncommunion with the spirit of the rock. Instead
\nchipped holds presuppose a relationship with
\nwhoever opened the route. From then I started to
\neliminate holds that I had chipped.
\nI became intrigued by the game of eliminating
\nchipped holds at least as much as colouring
\npitons yellow and using only natural holds.
\nEliminating chipped holds means:
\nmaking the rock symbolically more similar to its initial state;
\nenjoying this purification;
\nbecoming elated by the gestures of a natural movement;
\ngiving birth within us to a creative rush\u0160
\n
\nWhen sports climbing began we enjoyed painting
\nthe pitons yellow that were no longer needed in
\naid climbing. In parallel I realized that I
\ncould no longer stand climbing on chipped holds,
\nI no longer perceived the pleasure of movement
\nand its relationship with this mineral.
\nFrom this supposition, I started the game of
\nrepeating all the routes of Buoux without using
\nchipped holds and I wrote a guide from this
\ngame. I ascertained that there are pitches which
\nare easier without using chipped holds and that
\none can even catalogue the styles of chipping! I
\nadded "La rose et le vampire" to the guide of
\nthe re-climbed routes without using chipped
\nholds because I had intentionally widened a
\nbi-doigt to make it possible for even short
\npeople to try the route. By intervening on a
\nhold we act irreparably.
\nThis was a real and true realisation: holds are
\nthe Achilles heel of climbing. A hold is as
\nprecious as a stone, "the precious hold"
\nconnects us with the universe: we go back in
\ntime climbing on limestone. When we start to
\nclimb a pitch we go back thousands of years, and
\nas we slowly reach the top we get closer to the
\npresent.
\n
\nI find it just as beautiful that this activity
\nis undertaken on a few square centimetres of
\nmineral. If a crazy man or terrorist should ruin
\na hold this would be irreparable. After all
\nclimbing is based on tacit consent, nobody has
\never put in writing the ethics of climbing. A
\nsilence which makes our activity exist for ever.
\n
\nA DREAM CROSS-OVER
\nThis creative attitude allowed me discover the
\n"Rose’s cross-over", a movement which did not
\nexist in climbing vocabulary: the left arm moves
\nto reach a hold which is very far away to the
\nright, so much so that it forces one’s head
\nunderneath the right arm; this movement widened
\nmy vision over space and on the world that
\nsurrounds me, creating a relationship between
\nthe belayer and the climber. Thanks to this new
\nmovement I discovered a new dimension in the
\nworld of climbing, which made me foresee the
\nfact that I would become a climbing artist. It
\nis a fundamental movement because it allows me
\nto be up high and to create nonetheless a
\nrelationship with the audience. This movement
\nhas become inseparable from my vertical dance,
\ntherefore I exported it onto the stages and
\nwalls of the cities.
\nAs you have probably understood, this pitch has
\nbeen very important for me; it transformed me
\nand changed the course of my life. The practice
\nof climbing evolves incessantly and the richness
\nfound in our activity lies in the differences in
\nour approach, each to his own pitch.
\n
\nELEGY TO THE HOLD
\nThe climbing hold is the basis on which our
\npractice lies, climbing is born with the first
\nhold and then dies with the last. Without holds
\nthere would be no climbers, we live climbing
\nbetween two holds.
\nEach hold is unique and is part of our mineral
\npatrimony just like climbing’s patrimony of
\nmovement. At the same time it represents the
\nweak point of this discipline, we can
\nvoluntarily break it, enlarge it, cover it up,
\nchip it, cover it up again, chip it again\u0160
\nHolds are at the mercy of our will as route setters and climbers.
\nThey have their own life, they wear away with
\ntime, they break off due to our continuous
\npulling and just after it rains they become
\nespecially fragile.
\nThe tendency of a pitch is to become increasingly difficult and polished.
\nA hold wears away due to repetitive moves, it is
\nconstantly a victim of its own success. It is
\nthe life of the pitches and therefore we should
\nbe well-mannered to it, accept it for what it
\nis, clean our feet and climb delicately.
\nA hold has its own shape, dimension,
\norienteering, its colour, it is a note on a
\nmineral score and we are dancers who interpret
\nthis choreography. We are like stones that
\nbounce off the holds.
\nEach hold has its own nearby. The "excluded"
\nholds do not exist in climbing. A hold connects
\nall climbers, it is our point of contact on
\nwhich we leave sweat and blood, rubber, mud,
\nchalk and resin. The hold is a carrier of the
\nunknown, of movement which generates.
\nA hold is a carrier of surprises.
\n
\nLE BOUT DU MONDE
\nThe first time I discovered this place was after
\nhaving cut down a tree to free the start of
\n"Fissure Serge". We borrowed a sloping boulder,
\nalmost a launching pad which allowed us to
\ndiscover "Bout du monde". A magical place!
\nImposing rock boulders inundated by sunshine
\ndecorated the bottom of the pitch which emanated
\nfrom their pores a sandy perfume of desert
\ncolours!
\nI still remember: the sun was setting slowly,
\nthe last luminous rays intertwined. I popped out
\nfrom a wooded ledge which opened up on to that
\ncorner of the world, theatre of numerous
\nbattles; I was there to climb. All the
\nliveliness and energy accumulated during the
\ncourse of the day projected themselves onto the
\npitch. During the different attempts I battled
\nhard with the same tenacity and anger, with the
\nwish to succeed in making movement after
\nmovement. Before each attempt I officiated a
\nfavourable ritual. I cleaned the holds. I held
\nthem in my hands, I massaged them with my
\nfingers to tame them and prepare them for the
\neffort that was about to happen. I let them gain
\nconfidence till the influx was ready to flow.
\nI prepared myself on the ground, above me the
\nsloping boulder was balanced. The equipment was
\nneatly arranged in a way that did not interfere
\nwith the ascent. I tied myself to my belayer who
\nheld my life in his hands. During my ascent he
\nunthreaded the rope to his human kite. With a
\nsharp move I made the rubber on my climbing
\nshoes weep. All I had to do was to put aside
\nthat cerebral mumbling and go back to being in
\nsymbiosis with the elements: mineral score, the
\nair, the void and my breath. Every time I fell a
\nfew metres from the ground. I asked myself what
\npushed me to try again without a break. Was I
\nborn to free this pitch? I had no choice, the
\nroute was part of me but in any case a lifetime
\ncould not summarize one movement. I felt tiny.
\nAfter the first difficult lock-offs, I quickly
\nreached the crux move holds, a dream cross-over
\non an ochre slab which had the conformation of a
\npainting or of a cinema screen. I tried to fuse
\ninto it keeping my hands on the edge of the
\npainting. I lacked the feeling of belonging to a
\n"great day", a state of grace which I
\nincessantly tried to arouse.
\nGradually the shadows grew, only the last ray of
\nsun remained, the spectacle was reaching its
\nfinale and the actors were exhausted,
\nfrustrated. We would return tomorrow or further
\non, for a few days we would leave the pitch to
\nrest.
\nAt the foot of "La rose et le vampire" a cloud
\nof midges flew over the green chestnut trees lit
\nby the last rays of light. I could see against
\nthe light, a goat behind a tree just above the
\ncrag; this was a good sign. The difficult
\nsection was overcome in an instant, I had made a
\nbreak-through.
\nOn top of the rose the sun disappeared behind
\nthe crag, this was another good sign. This was
\nonly a stage: the route continued without me.
\n"La rose et le vampire" is one of the most
\nfamous routes in the world, I am proud of this.
\nAs an artist\/climber I consider it a masterpiece
\ncreated through the alchemy of a crag, an author
\nand a movement: "free climbing".
\nApart from its climbing this pitch has its own
\nstory, enriched by those who have climbed it.
\nThe vampire is the route, the rose is for you.
\n\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
<!– \/* Style Definitions *\/ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:595.3pt 841.9pt; margin:70.85pt…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[8066],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-45352","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news-boulder"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n