When I arrived in Plzen the forecast did not look good. Scattered thunder showers

and humidity so thick that is was hard to make out the tall spires of the town center from the outlying hills.  Regardless of the weather, Jirka had promised the editors of a German climbing magazine a tour of the local bouldering at Petrohrad.  As we marched through the overgrown talus fields, gazing at all the friction dependent problems with beads of sweat on out brows, I could not help but feel it was a gigantic waste of time.



Kozelka in a sunny past season.
foto by© JirkaS

But like many weekends this summer, nowhere in Central Europe was dry.  All my trips planned for the famous sandstone areas, such as Adr, have been postponed into oblivion.  In August it snowed fifteen cm. on Lomnicky Stit the week before my planned trip to the High Tatras.  I cannot say that the rain has completely stopped me, for my diverted plans often lead me to the forests of the Frankenjura, where even in a heavy rain you can climb.


The surounding countryside.
foto by© JirkaS


Sunday Morning dawned as thick as any in San Francisco; Jirka and I debated the best plan for the day over breakfast.  The weather was so poor that I though it best to bag climbing, so we decided to pull a stump from his back yard.  After digging it out, I soon realized that Jirka’s hatchet and rickety pick ax wasn’t going to cut it.  “We need a chainsaw and a car to pull this out,” I spoke in my best pragmatic American voice.  “I know the easiest way to get it out,” Jirka smiled.  “Go to Kozelka.” 


Pavla eyes up the final moves to Skalácká, 6+
foto by© JirkaS


Upon leaving the city, my hopes were dashed by the grey clouds to the north.  Indeed at spots it began to rain, but forty minutes later we were parked in a tiny hamlet, overlooking a cleft of land where dark forested hills met golden sweeping expanses of grazing land.  In between stood the small village of Hrad -----, complete with a ruined castle and a beautiful church visible from afar, commanding this parting of terrain.  Kozelka is situated on a tall hill, above even the hills off to its south-west side.  From the long summit plateau, one can see for tens of kilometers, perhaps more.  Much to my surprise the rock was dry, well most of it. 


Jonquelle preparing to rap off of Bezejmenná, 6+
foto by© JirkaS

Kozelka is a volcanic rock, sometimes smooth cut, sometimes rough, sometimes firm, and sometimes loose.  Although the rock is firm enough to place metal protection, it has been developed with the same ethics as sandstone areas: bolts are spaced and knots and slings are the norm. The bolts are not too far apart as to be terribly frightening however; you just need to be careful.  Think of it as a training area for the tough stuff. 


A top on of the fine face routes.
foto by© JirkaS

The climbing there offers positive cut edging, cracks, stunning arêtes, off-widths and chimneys, and even some small towers.  The maximum height is about twenty two meters, with the average being about sixteen.  Natural protection abounds, so bring a variety of knots and slings. The rings are all sound.  It is a great place to begin placing soft protection, the risks are low (for this type of climbing) and the knots I placed were generally bomber.  You will find the whole gamut of soft protection possibilities here; in one afternoon I placed several knots, threaded an hourglass, and slung both chockstones and a rock horn.


Rakev, 7 (The Coffin)
foto by© JirkaS

If you are brave, you can climb all the classics at Kozelka in a day, the climbing tops out at 8+, and the majority of the climbs are in the 6-7 range.  I would recommend the area just for the scenery alone, so if you are worried about not enough difficult climbing don’t be, you will spend lots of time taking in the scenery on these beautiful routes.


A contemplative look into the coffin.
foto by© JirkaS


The climbing itself is really fun, if a little sporty.  The crowning achievement of my day was on-sighting a sparsely protected off-width/chimney dubbed “The Coffin.”  While you probably won’t die as the name infers, you will almost certainly take a digger if you botch the crux sequence right before you clip the first ring, at about eleven meters.  On the whole, this climb sports one ring and two slingable chocks in twenty two meters of climbing.  At the very top of the wall, I could see it was raining on the next ridge to the north.  To the south, the sun shined through fragmented clouds upon the tiny village, its church, and the surrounding grasslands.  It’s good to be alive in the Czech Republic. 


A shot that aptly depicts my summer: racing against the rain clouds
foto by© JirkaS

At the end of the day I quickly ran up the stunning arête, Vzdušná Hrana, possibly the best line at Kozelka.  I was racing the rain clouds; Jirka was racing to take pictures.  The result was beautiful airy climbing and breath-taking pictures.  As I reached the top, I felt a few drops of rain.  “Too late,” I thought.  “I’ve already had my fun for the day.  You can rain all you want.” 


Kozelka situ drawings
foto by© JirkaS