Croatia - Paklenica Begins

I have that warm fuzzy feeling. The morning’s climbing was good. The ankle is improving nicely. It’s evening now, and there is a light drizzle. I’m looking out at the fine mist from the warmth of the kitchen area, which smells delightful from everyone’s cooking. N and I are sharing a big bowl of tasty soup and munching on hunks of whole-wheat bread, spread with thick slices of butter. I’m supping red wine gently from a real glass. (It’s a treat to drink from a real glass, ok?!) I’m dunking the bread in the soup and the combination is tasty and delicious. (Yes, I know tasty and delicious are the same thing but it’s really tasty and I think I say “really” too much.) There’s something about the combination of good food and good wine on top of a day of good exercise that is... well – good.

We like Paklenica. On the first full day here we slept a bit late and then wandered up to the national park. It’s a kilometre’s walk from our campsite to the gates of the national park. We were mildly disconcerted to discover that from the gates it is a further 2 kms to the start of the climbing. None the less, the walk is pretty much on the flat and personally I think we need the exercise. N has a disgustingly sweet tooth and I find it very hard to watch him eat chocolate without joining in. In fact, I insist on half. This is why a 6 km walk every second day or so will do the both of us a world of good. The first day was a bit of a wash out. Literally. N nipped up one climb. I tied in and set my paw upon the rock and the heavens opened. N darted up the climb for the second time in order to clean it and then we retired to the souvenir shop to watch the rain bucket down. Not quite what we had in mind when we walked our 3 km. When the rain stopped the rock was wet. We started to walk home but I decided that it would be very silly to waste the day. We returned to the crag and climbed 3 dead easy routes. While I was on the third one the rain came down again. This time it was too much and we gave up. We fled from cave to cave between showers of rain and eventually made it back to camp damp and unimpressed. The next day it rained in the morning and the afternoon and so we walked to town for groceries instead of wasting an entrance fee to the park. Now at least we have more lunch options. Food is so important to me. It’s so much more than just a means of staying alive. (Although staying alive is not to be overrated.)

Today we made it to the park nice and early. Well, sort of early. Relatively early. Ok, early for us. Before lunch. We climbed 6 routes, all of them pretty easy. I am still top roping out of fear of falling on the gimpy ankle. The gimpy ankle is coming along nicely. I can now put weight on it from all sorts of funny angles. Which is great. But make no mistake, it is still a gimpy ankle. It is nowhere near as flexible as it should be and nowhere near as strong. Even top roping easy climbs is a bit of an adventure, as I have to pull off the most bizarre moves to compensate for not being able to use my right foot properly. I think that the people at the foot of the climb must look up at me and wonder what the hell I am doing, as I grunt and contort and heave myself all over the place, totally ignoring the obvious right foothold. By the end of my 6 routes, my fingertips were rubbed raw. Interesting fact – if you climb enough you can lose your fingerprints, albeit temporarily. So, as climbers, we do not have to use gloves should we choose to steal your silver. How’s that for funky? (Not that I have put my theory to the test, but I am sure it would work.) My desperately sensitive fingers called for a lunch break. I listened. We ate. I had some of the best tomato sandwiches I have had in a very long while. N claimed (while curling his lip in disgust) that it was out of sheer desperation for real food. I disagreed. They were just good. You should try eating tomato sandwiches on a rock next to a stream after a morning of satisfying climbing, to see what I mean.

After lunch it began to drizzle again. N and I trotted home. By this let me not mislead you. We did not jog. We walked. I blame it on the gimpy ankle. I am sure that I would jog 3 km with a backpack of climbing gear if my ankle were only sound enough….

We took a quick walk in to town to buy chocolate and bread and then we made supper. The supper that lead to the warm, fuzzy feeling. The warm fuzzy feeling has outlasted supper. We are now finishing off the chocolate (dammit – best we walk another 6 km tomorrow) and I am finishing my wine. I think that it is just about time to head off to the tent for a well deserved snooze. I am sure that my fingertips will magically regenerate overnight and tomorrow morning we will be back at the park, flinging ourselves at more climbs. Paklenica has got some of the nicest easy limestone climbs that I have been on. The rock isn’t that awful cheese grater stuff. I’m really enjoying it. Hopefully we will soon recover some of the climbing fitness that was just beginning to manifest itself when I went and threw myself down a mountain in Italy.

Anyway, it’s nice to be feeling perky and happy again. Long may the warm, fuzzy feeling last!