Melanie Jackson: I am a dirt bag: Part One

Two thousand and fifteen. Already. It seems like only yesterday that I boarded a plane in New Zealand, leaving home for an indefinite trip around the world. In fact, my adventure started almost two years ago. And here I am in a small, cute little bakery in a tiny tucked up village in Spain, two years later. And no plans to stop yet.

I don’t even know where to begin with my story so far. Its so hard to think back through everything that has happened. Everywhere I have been. If I was to describe all of it, I would still be sitting here tomorrow and not even be half way through.

I’ve been living my dream. I left New Zealand in 2013 with no responsibilities, and the freedom to go anywhere and do anything. And what I wanted to do was go climbing. So that's what I did. And I've been living the ultimate dirt bag life in order to do so.

By this stage of my trip I definitely qualify as a complete and total dirt bag. And I am bloody proud of it to. I have spent almost a year in total living out of my tent, cooking nothing but rice or pasta in the dirt, wearing the same clothes for weeks on end and showering maybe once every week, and that wasn't even pushing it. I'm sitting in a bakery wearing clothes I haven't washed in weeks, I've put a beanie on to cover up my mop of hair that I haven't done in days, my fingertips are ripped to shreds and I haven't showered in a week and a half.

When finding a box with the word “free stuff” becomes almost as exciting as climbing your project, you know your a dirt bag. When seeing the words “free food” becomes even more exciting than “free stuff”, you know your so far gone into the dirt bag life that there's no going back! I am so far gone, and it is GREAT. I wouldn't want it any other way.

I've decided to split this blog up into two parts. Instead of starting from the beginning, im going to start with the last few months. It would make sense to start right from the beginning, to where this all began, but the last 3 months have been the best of my trip so far and while its fresh in my head, I want to get it all down.

So this stage of my trip began almost four months ago in one of the most spectacular climbing destinations in the world. Out in amongst the French Alps, sits the incredible grey/blue limestone wall of Ceuse, France. After a time spent in England, doing a bit of work and training hard, this is where I found myself in the first week of September. Of everywhere I have been on my travels so far, I completely agree when people say that Ceuse is the best sport climbing area in the world. They are so right.

The climbing in Ceuse was beyond my imagination. The rock is perfect. The holds are perfect. Even the hour walk in is perfect. The blue limestone is full of a mixture of pockets and crimps, and allows for perfect climbing. It took me a few weeks to learn the style. Its interesting. Your climbing, and your wanting to climb dynamically, wanting to pull hard, but you soon realise that the type of climbing forces you to climb very technically.

The famous Biography wall

The key to climbing in Ceuse is having strong fingers, good body awareness, and a ton of endurance. I had none of that. But after eight weeks of walking up a hill for an hour every morning, of climbing as much as possible, I was fit, I was strong, and I was climbing well. I was psyched. My goal for the trip to Ceuse was to remember sport climbing again, get some endurance, climb anything no matter what the grade, and go to Spain strong for the winter.

The highlight of my trip was a climb called Berlin 7c. A Ceuse classic. This climb summed up all my goals of the trip. When I did it, it didn’t feel hard for me. And it was a great feeling. The climb requires you to have everything that I thought I was weak at. You need to be able to climb on crimps, you need to be able to climb for 30 metres, you need endurance and you need to be strong. I didnt think I had any of that when I turned up in Ceuse, and yet I found myself at the anchors of this climb after not long at all.

Me on Berlin 7c, Berlin Wall

This was where I also met a group of people who I would end up spending the next few months with, and who I would stay in contact with for a long time. Almost two months of great climbing, even greater people, and even ended up living in a caravan by the end of the trip. I would call that a big success. I even miss the walk in.

This is what happens when you put on wet,
new climbing shoes.

Power stancing. Getting psyche for the day.

Things worked out even better than I had hoped for. I planned to leave Ceuse strong and fit. I left stronger and fitter than I thought I would be. I had fresh psyche to climb everything. I had a whole new dose of confidence and spirit, and excitement levels were high when I boarded my flight to Spain.

I arrived in Margalef, pitched my tent in what turned out to be the coldest campsite I have ever stayed in, and was climbing as soon as I got the chance. Margalef suits my style in so many ways. The whole area is full of powerful, fun, pockety climbing. I was completely in my element. The aim of my trip here was to climb hard. Fresh from Ceuse, I was fit and strong, so I was feeling confident. Within two weeks, I was climbing harder than I have ever done.

Me on La Gomorra 7b+, Espadelles, Margalef

By the end of my time there, I had finally broken through the barrier and pushed my climbing to a new limit by climbing my first 8a, Telemaster. I was psyched. On my second to last day in Margalef too. I must have really wanted it. I did really want it. It was such a good climb. And left me wanting more.

The two months I spent in Margalef was amazing. I would go climbing during the day, then head back to camp, to our congregation of green tents in the corner, eat some good food, hang out with some of the best people I have met so far, then do it all again the next day. I cant think of anything I would rather be doing!! The people I was with absolutely made my trip! I had friends from all over the world, in one place with me everyday. Its funny how you can meet so many people from so many different places in the world, with so many different backgrounds, but put them all in a climbing area together and everyone is the same. Everyone has one thing in common. Everyone is eating pasta for dinner, living in the dirt, not showering, wearing dirty clothes, and has overwhelming psyche to go climbing. ITS GREAT.

The last four months have tested me in so many ways. Its tested my climbing, its tested my choice to live this way. Its taught me a lot about who I am, and what my life is about. But in the end, two things still stand out to me. I can still go anywhere, and climb anything. And I just want to climb. All the time. Everywhere.

I have no plans to stop yet. What's next? Maybe its time to go bouldering again. Should I stay in Europe? Or go somewhere else? Or do I keep sport climbing? Far too many options, too many ideas. I cant complain much about that though, can I?

Here are a few photos of things so far: