My last full day in Mallorca, but lord knows no one is this entire country can imagine climbing before 2pm, so I’m waiting for the troops to rally for a last go at Diablo Wall, the tall, steep, juggy wall over rough water. It’s the classic Mallorca spot, but man, I can only do so many 11b downclimb approach traverses in a day.
I keep falling off the end of this classic route Afroman, which is super chill with a long move at the end that is just such a drag to miss, because you fall far and have to swim in the rough black water then exit onto daggars. A climber died doing it (the exit not the climb) years ago. I don’t know the story.
It’s so much fun, though, with huge roof moves than some campus action on the headwall, that I keep trying it. I want to finish it today then try something else there, possible this harder line out left of the same cave. I’ll probably try it once, then get owned by the swim and the raging water exit, then go home. I am so, so grateful for all the swimming I did this summer. It’s come in so handy here.
Tomorrow I’m heading to Siurana to meet up with Ryan from London, who I promised a tour of Spanish sports action after he took me to that crazy highway gym. The Christensen’s are there too. We’ll climb for about a week, then I start making my way home, which feels kind of unknown and daunting. I haven’t nailed down my living arrangement, or my Hueco plan, or anything, and I’m nervous to go back. Fortunately I have my birthday and a few days in France to enjoy before that.