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I have been in France for a little over two weeks and thought it was time to post some pictures. It has been a Hampi, India reunion for me. I was greeted at the Fontainebleau train station by Otso and Oyvind two climbers I met in India. Two other Hampi friends, Paula and Jacob, joined us for about a week. Right now I am hanging out and climbing with Otso who leaves in a few days. The climbing has been good, a bit rainy last week, but the rock dries fast. The climbing in Font is hard. Ever hold is open handed and friction dependent. It is intense on the back, core and shoulders, but really fun. Well don’t have the motivation to write anymore so hopefully the pictures will tell the story for me this time.
-Conrad

Train Station

Otso on Beatlejuice V7

Unknown classic total font style

Stephan on a V6 ish arete

Expresso in the morning

Otso on Diversion V7/8

Oyvind On Excalibur V7

Two videos my buddy Ben Cummings made of a bunch of classic climbs in Hampi.

Part 1

Part 2

As time began to run short for me in India my friend Otso suggested one more trip to Badami. I felt I had a very successful trip in Hampi, sending all but a few projects, so I agreed to go. Our crew was smaller this time comprised of Otso, Camilla, Kaare, Autumn, Dean, Tom and I. We said our goodbyes in Hampi and made our way to the local bus station to catch our bus, which we opted to take instead of the taxi. Tom, Dean and I were on top of the bus trying to secure our crash pads as the bus started to leave the station. The last thing I heard was Dean yell “This isn’t safe!” as they bail off the top and climb aboard. Knowing the road conditions and the way these buses drive I knew our crash pads were as good as lost if I didn’t tie them down, so i hunkered down and tried to speed up the process while yelling at the bus to stop. Not wanted to endure a couple hours on top of the roof, I quickly finished, jumped off and hopped aboard the moving bus. My knots lucky held and we arrive in Badami just as it got dark with all the crashpads still aboard. We celebrated our safe journey with delicious Indian Thali’s, a common Indian meal with three different curries, rice, curd and roti bread with a dessert all for a little over a dollar, and of course Kingfisher beer.

Having spent more time in India since my last Badami trip I was able to relax and enjoy this trip more than the first one, despite the noise, filth and general chaotic vibe of India. I was also prepared for the kids, this trip. At the first sound of “school pen” I would turn and with wide eyes and a big goofy grin and go chasing after the kids yelling “school pen!” in my best witches voice. This usually did the trick either making them laugh or shocked them enough to not ask for anything else. The climbing was amazing, hopefully these pictures do this place justice.

Its funny, being in India I got to experience so many new things and my trip is full of little moments which I think back to and are so grateful to have been apart of. One of those moments happened during our last day in Badami. Otso and I had been climbing at an area bordering a small dirt path. We were told by the many kids that walked by with there cricket bats that it was a holiday and there was no school. Soon we found ourselves surrounded by close to twenty boys. I pulled the whole school pen routine chases them, tugging at there shirts, which they found very funny and the begging stopped. They watched us climb, helped spot and cheered when we sent. During our breaks they would climb atop the boulders and dare each other to jump off onto the crash pad. Otso showed them how it was done and soon the boys were taking turns jumping onto my pad as I took pictures. The heat was setting in so we started to pack up. The kids saw this and told us to come play cricket with them. We agreed and followed them to a flat sandy field where fifty some boys where playing a couple games of cricket. As I sat my pad down I was swarmed by kids all fighting over a place to sit on it. Otso and I would take turns bowling for the kids, all of which wanted a turn to hit a ball bowled from a westerner. Some of the older boys would stand next to me critiquing my bowling technique yelling, “wide, wide!” or “Good bowling!” when I managed to hit a wicket. I was soon offered a turn at bat and the kids took turns bowling for me, laughing when I missed and cheering when I made a good hit. The cricket soon turned to play fighting and typical boy shenanigans. I sat down and watched as the boys practiced there long jumping in the sand and laughed as one boy would drag his frightened friends up to me and tell me to wrestle or kick-box them. Rarely have I found anyone to be this friendly and open to strangers, but my time in India was filled with encounter like this, which I feel very fortunate to have experienced.

Otso on Badami Two Tap

Me on a unnamed 5.12ish climb. Photo Kaare Iverson

Camilla on an unnamed Classic

Otso on possibly the second ascent of Marble Rye.

More boys of Badami.

Official Asana pad testers. Apparently jumping down is more fun than climbing up.

The Badami round two crew enjoying a kingfisher.

Well folks I am back in the states trying to get over a post India sickness. I will continue to post stories, pictures and hopefully a few videos of my India trip in the next few weeks. Enjoy.

I first heard of Badami while climbing in Hampi. I was told it was home to amazing sandstone cliffs and boulders, so when my friend Chris Welden, a Canadian squamite, told me he was planning a trip there I was very keen to join. Badami, the erstwhile capital of the Chalukya empire, located in northern part of the India state of Karnataka lies between 100 and 200 kilometers from hampi. One of our faithful taxi drivers named “Funky” told us it was a 3 to 4 hour drive. This 3 hour drive slowly turned into a 6 hour drive, which was expected because driving anywhere in India is an extremely time consuming task. The tiny pot hole ridden roads make travel slow, massive traffic jams common and reckless driving apparently necessary. We were a two taxi van convoy each pack to the brim with three Indian drivers and eight climbers. I was seated in one of the vans, back up against the drivers seat looking out the back window. I would judge the level of danger I was in by the looks on Oyvind, Eirik and Jakobs faces, who were unlucky enough to see the oncoming traffic. There faces would go from nervous to anxious to scared to terrified, they would than close there eyes and flinch just as the taxi would swerve out of the passing lane narrowly missing one of the many oncoming giant buses or trucks, with there unbelievable loud horns. Each town we would go through the drivers would yell something and as our taxis would inevitably stop at a traffic jam curious Indian onlookers would swarm the van yelling “Your country!?” “Your name!?” “Schoolpen!?” “Rupee!?” “Biscuit!?”. As the taxi would finally start driving again the children would chase after it yelling and screaming.

As dusk encroached we were welcomed to the site of sandstone cliffs and the dirty, noisy city of Badami. Just as the idea of dinner, beer and bed started to creep into my mind our chief negotiator Chico, a fluent Hindi speaker, Chris and Kevin or Beefcake came back from their hotel search and told us there were no rooms due to a Holiday. Since bed was no longer viable we opted for the dinner and beer. Over a cold kingfisher our luck changed. Chris had gone back to one hotel with a single empty room to see if it would be possible to fit all 16 of us into it for a night. While at the hotel the manager offered up their vacant group hall, used for weddings and parties, and the one empty room. We took it.

After a morning of chai and Masala Dosa, a potato and curry filled crape, we headed for the rocks. The rock in Badami is not as extensive as hampi, nothing is, but it is sandstone and it produces amazing, steep, thuggy climbs. The beautiful red swirled, marble rye breadsque rock, was a welcomed change from hampi and we spent the first day wondering the sandstone corridors and cliffs searching for boulders and the climbing gems of the area.

I quickly began to realize what an oasis Hampi and Goan’s Corner was. Badami was much more like the real India I had heard of. Every day we would walk through slums and pass wild pig infested open sewers, trash piles and the occasional drunk passed out Indian man face down in the dirt on the side of the road. The biggest challenge was the kids. One morning on the way to the rocks we past through a Muslim slum. We were swarmed upon by 20 to 30 kids at first asking us our name and country. Then they started tugging at my hands asking for school pens, rupees, chocolate and biscuits; this was quite the experience. As we reached the edge of the town and started to walk up into the hills a few of the kids, obviously angry that they did not get anything from us, began throwing rocks. Before we could do much a parent appeared and the kids scattered. This was not the last of our experiences with the badami kids. Every day at least a few of them would find us hiding in the rocks and spend a few hours with us watching our every move. They started off begging, which worked at first. Hoping they would stop someone in our group would eventually give them a biscuit or empty water bottle or a bit of climbing tape. It quickly became apparent that this made the begging worse. Although this was frustrating I couldn’t help but be sympathetic to them, for if I was in there situation I would do the same thing. After the kids realized they had gotten all they could out of us they began to act like kids. It was fun to watch them roughhouse with each other on our crashpads or try their hand at climbing with our over sized climbing shoes and chalk. We spent three nights in badami and then took the taxis back to Hampi where we spent new years, but I would return right before I left India. Badami round two soon to come.

Kids of Badami with Beefcake

Chris on an unnamed ungraded roof problem

The Monkeys showing us how it was done.

Otso on an unnamed ungraded roof problem

Colorful schoolgirls at the caves of Badami. Amazing temples carved out of the cliff face.

Otso on another unnamed ungraded gem

Beefcake enjoying the cramped six hour taxi ride back to Hampi.

Hey folks my time is running out in Hampi so I thought I better post some more photos. I have become friends with a Canadian climber/ photographer named Kaare Iverson and we went out one morning and shot some photos in the hot morning light. Note the colorful red shirt (Mike). Kaare was generous enough to let me post some of his beautifully composed pictures which depict the climbing in hampi very well. check out his blog on climbing.com- Kaare Iverson
I have one more week in hampi and than back to badami for some sandstone climbing before I have to head home I am in project mood right now and have managed to tick all but three of my projects hopefully the next four days will bring many sends. Lots more pictures and stories to come soon. Enjoy.

Unnamed problem V9/10
Copyright Kaare Iverson 2010

Space Baba V7/8
Copyright Kaare Iverson 2010

Slappin’ the Baba V8
Copyright Kaare Iverson 2010

Ben Chico Pete and I bringing in the new years in style with many explosives.
Copyright Kaare Iverson 2010

I think it was about 3 in the morning when I completely lost it. The past eight hours of “purging”had taken its toll. I struggled to push my sweat drenched body off the floor of my hut where I had just spent the past 15 minutes doubled up over a bucket. My abs, from over use had unfortunate stopped working properly and cramped up with each heave, prompting my body to contort into positions where my muscles could relax. The severe dehydration and fatigue had finally went to my head, my thoughts were random and didn’t make sense. My sickness manifested itself in my mind as a sour old lady who for reasons unbeknownst to me would not leave me alone. it would be another four hours of this before I managed to fall asleep face up on the floor with my feet propped up on the bed the only position I could find that would ease my stomach. The Delhi belly Sharmila calls it and you haven’t been to India unless you have gotten it I am told. It is a violent reminder that clean water and food is something I take for granted but is a luxury only few can afford. It would be 4 days until I could eat again and a few more until I gained my strength back to climb. But I managed to get well just in time for Christmas eve after a day of great climbing we were greeted with a hug feast, games and a British Santa that handed out secret Santa gifts. Christmas Day brings climbing, of course, and a cricket game during that day, should be fun.
Tomorrow a group of us are travelling down south to a new sandstone climbing area called Bodomy which is rumored to be amazing. My tendons are continuing to get stronger, before I got sick I managed to send Goan Corner V8 probably the most stunning arete I have ever climbed my friend Ben managed to get the send on film so I will post that when I can. Well I wish everyone back home a very Marry Christmas and until next time…

I have been in hampi for almost 2 weeks now. Unfortunately I am nursing 2 tendon injuries. I injured them while i was in bishop and thought they felt better after taking 3 weeks off before arriving in hami. The first day climbing here I got way to excited and climbed a problem named kingfisher, a classic V6 or so with a small left crimp in the crux. This unfortunately did not make my tendons happy and they started acting up again, so i have been stuck climbing problems with slopers or holds I can open hand with my left, Hampi, being the land of crimpers makes this difficult. Even with my injuries I am having an amazing time. I managed to climb a problem called double tap, which is an amazing 7b that climbs a tall double arete, that ranks as one of the best climbs I have ever done (picture of that climb to come). The atmosphere and vibe of hampi is amazing. Life is very simple. I wake up early climb until it got too hot than come back and order breakfast than hang out drinking chi, playing chess, slacklining and reading until it cools down enough to go climbing again. As the darkness encroaches I wonder back to the guest house and enjoy another massive Indian dinner topped off with one of Shamilia’s( guest house owner) amazing deserts. All for dirt cheap. Not a bad life.
As for the climbing the amount of rock in Hampi is unreal there is rock as far as the eye can see. Ben, an Aussie friend, and I rented mopeds for a day and cruised up to the local lake for a swim and than explored some of the windy dirt roads that run through the fields of boulders connecting small towns. I was amazed at how much room there is for development in Hampi. Only a fraction of what could be climbed here has been and the climbing is good. A bit sharp but no sharper than bishop or Joshua Tree. Well that is enough out of me, I wish everyone well enjoy the pictures, and until next time…

Ben and the endless boulder fields.

Me on an unnamed problem. photo-Kaare Iverson

Pete on Indian Summer V9

Duncan on cosmic friction V5

Indian boy showing off for rupees or school pens.

It is 300am i am laying in bed in hampi. I laid down and fell asleep 15 hours ago. I hoped to wake up in the evening to get a climbing session in but to no avail. i guess i needed the sleep. I am overwhelmingly happy to have made it to hampi safely. This is the longest journey i have ever made to get to a climbing area. 58 hours straight of travel with roughly only 8 very poor hours of sleep, hense the 15 hours straight of sleep!! the flights were uneventful boise-LAX-Dubia-Mumbia-Goa. I had a 3 hour layover in Dubia were i wandered the enormous and extremely lavish airport. the wealth there was obvious. Giant fountains, waterfalls, gardens and amazing architecture made the 3 hours go by very quickly. I cleared customs in Mumbi. Guards carrying AK’47s remind me that I am no longer in America. I take my bags out of the customs x-ray machines and can’t help but smile at the sleeping guard that is running it. guess they do things alittle different here.
The morning of my flight I made a last minute decision to buy a cheap flight to Goa, south of mumbia, and opt out of the 10 hour train ride, good decision. From Goa I take an overpriced taxi to Margoa bus station, a state run bus station. The taxi pulls into the far back corner of the dirt lot next to a giant white sleeper bus. Before I can get out 3 men come up to me.
“were you go?”
“Hospet.”
The men converse. “Ok you take this bus to Bangalore than catch another bus to hospet.”
I shake my head. “No I want to go to hospet.”
They along with the taxi driver assure me there is no bus to hospet. I take a map out of india out and point out hospet and then bangalore to the bus men. Bangalore would be 12 hours out of my way.
“Hospet.”
“no Bangalore than hospet”
“how much”
“900 rupees”
I laugh and shake my head. “no no no!”
900 rupees equal about $18 sounds cheap for a 12 hour bus ride but is way over priced for india. I ask the bust driver were the bus station is and to take me there. HE tells me this is it. I have spent time in other countries and have been riped off before so I would think I have a pretty good idea when I am being played. I ask the driver for my pad in the trunk and walk away. 100 yards away I find the ticket counter and buy a ticket to hospet for 220 rupees roughly 5 dollars. I have to wait 6 hours for the bus. I don’t particularly feel like walking around Goa with my giant backpack and crash pad so I take my pack off and sit on my pad. I am the only Westerner at the bus station that is swarming with people. Almost everyone who walks by first stares at the giant white boy and then at his giant bright red and black asana crash pad. I smile and more often than not the smile is returned. 2 old Indian women sit down next to me on some steps they look at me then my pad and giggle at each other. I smile at them making them giggle some more. I am covered in sweat not yet used to the humidity. I turn to the women fan my face with my hand and say “hot” they say something in hindi and laugh. one holds out her hand and ask for pasos I shake my head, they soon lose interest and ignore me.
A few hours later a well dressed man sits next to me I smile and say hi he speaks english and we begin to chat. he asks what I do for a living I tell him i am a fireman. He tells me he is an engineer. After a few minutes of small talk he ask me how much money I make. I tell him 13 dollars an hour and also explain hazard pay and over time. He sarcastically replies “thats it?!” I am a bit taken back since he is an engeener, naively thinking he was well off. I ask him how much he makes he laughs and shakes his head I press him alittle harder and he finally tells me. 20,000 ruppees a month. alittle less than $500 a month and he has a university eduction.
THe bus amazingly arrived on time.
“Hublihospethublihospethublihospet!!” was the bus conductors call. he said it so fast I couldn’t understand. Finally I went up and ask “hospet?” annoyed he assured me yes it was going to hospet. As I got on the bus a bus official took my ticket looked at my pad and said I could not bring it on the bus. I argued with him all the while trying to cram my pad in an over head rack. It wouldn’t fit so I resorted to stuffing it on end next to the window. This made the bus man more angry telling me “you people are becoming as big problem.” NOt sure if he meant climbers or westeners, probably both. I told he I would fix it. As more passengers entered he got feed up and stormed off. I sat next to my pad with my backpack at my feet and tried to make myself as small as possible as the bus official kept throwing me nasty looks. The bus was not meant for people my size and I had to lean forward and angle my bent legs up and left to fit. My hope to sleep a few hours on the 12 hour bus ride were quickly dashed as the bus became completely full. The cold stares I received made me uneasy. This was the first time in a while were I felt unsafe. This feeling subsided as the hours pasted along witht the dark stairs. My neighbors warmed up as I tried to converse with them. The 12 hours past in a fatigue produced haze. I badly wanted to sleep but the road was to rough and I was to cramped to sleep more the 10 to 15 minutes at a time. My nerves were wearing thin by the bus drivers amazing feats of reckless driving and the guards that searched the bus for weapons, drugs and bombs. I watched the sun rise from my seat and soon found myself on the last leg of the journey hospet to hampi. a short 15 inute bus ride. The bus drove past boulder after boulder the size of the peabodys in bishop. I was soon welcomed by the sight of gigantic hindu temples and endless mountains of granite boulders. I pushed past the peddlers and beggars and made my way to goan corner. A quiet guesthouse nestled by the a boulders field on hampi island. Exhausted and happy I ate a delicious breakfast of puri banji, chia and orange juice and went to bed.

Monkey at Monkey Temple

Enjoying Some Chia after a motorcycle ride.

Perry Climbing at the Small cave area.

Airplane V6

The Middle Way V11