In the world of magazine production they publish November editions in October (and write most of the content in August and September), thus prolonging the shelf life of said publication and tricking the late purchasing public into thinking they are tuned into the here and now, rather than some stuff that happened/got written about a while back. Here at NWB we flip it on its head and publish the November Boulder of the Month in December – yeah, you heard me right, we don’t give a flying forest gateau for convention. Take it away, Big G:

”Dear NWB readers,

Oh that it should come to this. What - has the sun got vertigo? Grovelling coward; bumbling along the horizon; seen but not believed, as the perpetual motion of the rain makes us, with its billion drops, relent and crawl to cafes and pubs and shops, to gossip and fester and poison ourselves with too much of what will be our downfall.
The mountains are like a seabed, the coast; a foam party. The sheep have mildew. Chalk no longer shows up on the white fingers of the forlorn boulderer, pale as a cave fish.

In small corners, outlying places where the rock might dry for a half hour, we scurry in desperation and throw down our mats and sit in what look like impromptu play areas for idiots.

So here; in this feckless shallow cave at Pen Lyn, dogs will sniff at your best efforts, families will stop in momentary sympathy, calling curious kids away from the scene. Mats will flap about as though possessed of their own will to bugger off before you. More gray curtains of rain and sleet will twitch as though to bring your performance to a sorry end.

There will be no one there when you get there, because there is always somewhere better...and they are all there...and you are here...damn! Sit and feel the fear - that you are missing out. Your mates are all somewhere better, hotter, cooler.....Damn.
Later you will see their social network messages of joy and all you will have is this.
“Went to a shitty little cave today” It’s not going to sound good is it! But when you do grasp the little holds and get down-and-dirty, and actually give it a heave...something happens.
Something pours through your little veins, and all of a sudden you don’t feel such a loser, because you are on the hold that matters, the ‘hear- and-now’ sloper that passes all understanding.

When you feel it... you will know

Love Big G”

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