The Calling
Every autumn a murmur spreads throughout the UKBouldering (UKB) forums, “Is it time?”
A fresh gust that gives you goose bumps is enough to start it all, one crisp morning in September and the optimists are all scrambling to the forums “Is it time for the Call?”.
With this I refer to the fabled “Calling of the Grit” a secretive tradition and responsibility passed down from individual to individual, known to the community as the "Caller". This is a heavy responsibility on a select individual within the hushed inner circle of UKB, to make the call whether God’s own rock; the gritstone, is in or not.
For those of our readers that take climbing as a fun recreational past-time rather than the driving force of their entire life; the concept of a rock being ‘in’ or ‘out’ may be alien to you.
“How could a rock be ‘out’? Stanage is lively with climbers any sunny weekend year-round!” one may exclaim.
And it is, of course, excellent year round, but there comes a time, when it becomes especially magic. The temps drop, humidity reaches ideal levels, you don’t have to bushwhack to get around and you won’t be descended upon by swarms of blood thirsty tiny insects.
Oh - this is when the call starts beckoning; The Call of the Gritstone.
It is up to the Caller, to make sure that all the conditions have been met; five conditions that are kept secret.
There are many conditions that users hint at, some more specific than others. Such as so-called benchmark problems and holds, can they be climbed, can they be held? Perhaps the sloper on Secret Seventh at Caley?
But specific conditions like this are up to the user, what is unholdable for one person is an absolute bucket for someone else year round.
So perhaps it’s more obvious, like whether the limestone is seeping yet or not, Raven Tor, Crag X, undercuts on Tom’s roof and Kilnsey. If it’s not wet, the grit isn’t in? Perhaps a better guess for at least one of the conditions.
Or perhaps it’s a much more abstract condition as one user writes:
“I woke up in Ilkley, within 700m and in plain sight of the Cow and Calf (my childhood crag), to a frosty clear morning. My time was already committed to child herding (copyright GCW) and wiping drool off the oldest relative instead of climbing. OOH that hurt.
I then ate lunch with non-climbing family whilst gazing up at Rocky Valley - more pain.
Then we drove past Caley, with great views of Almscliffe; already late for the next family do (3rd birthday of obnoxious son of wife's lovely cousin)
Birthday party finished in time for me to get the last hour of daylight on the grit.....
Oh no. No such luck. Oldest child stubs toe with no shoes on (scary and obviously painful thick flapper plus nail split) and all my time is taken up with wound cleaning.
…
This sort of day usually marks the start of the grit season.”
Certainly a relatable one at that, one’s inability to partake on the best of days is often a sign of them. Golden grit days every single weekday and rain and/or mist on the weekend, anyone?
An informed guess from user ‘Bonjoy’ for the five conditions seem likely enough (4 out of 5 maybe)
“Five conditions, I'm guessing?
1. Bracken dead
2. Lime wet
3. Midges gone
4. Cold temps (A frost)
5. A crow is born with the head of quail”
To which the current Caller; user ‘Johnny Brown’ says they “are close enough for you mortals. The real ones I'm sworn not to divulge unless via Red Roddy.”
At this time it’s unclear to this investigator what Red Roddy is.
The Call is generally a bit simpler for Grit’s evil sister; Limestone. There are also some unknown conditions too but the call is less to greet the limestone and more, sadly, to say goodbye to the grit (for now).
The conditions are likely to be that the temperatures reach double digits, the Tor and another unclear lime crag is dry, the caller needs to retro-flash Staminaband (maybe) and the key undercut on Powerband is dry.
Ultimately, if the grit is too hot, the ferns are making path finding hard and the lime isn’t seeping. That’s when you know that the grit is out and the lime is unfortunately in.
But as Andy Harris (a previous lime caller) himself once stated to his succeeding Caller:
“Only you will know. Don’t be bullied by the keenness of youth. Try to climb like a legend on the day of the call (lest others question your calling). Let it be known publicly & in a big way: it’s lime time.”
A quick glance at the calling dates over the years compiled by user ‘cheque’ (2021-2025 added by me) reveals no real pattern, they are as erratic as the British weather itself.
There’s no model that can predict the Call. Only the Callers know.
| Year | Lime Called | Grit Called |
|---|---|---|
| 2008 | 14/05 | 28/09 |
| 2009 | 07/05 | 28/10 |
| 2010 | 23/05 | 20/10 |
| 2011 | 12/04 | 19/10 |
| 2012 | N/A | 12/10 |
| 2013 | 03/05 | 04/11 |
| 2014 | 17/05 | 05/11 |
| 2015 | 14/04 | 16/11 |
| 2016 | 21/04 | 01/11 |
| 2017 | 24/03 | 02/11 |
| 2018 | 22/04 | 19/10 |
| 2019 | 18/04 | 10/11 |
| 2020 | N/A | 25/10 |
| 2021 | 09/04 | 02/11 |
| 2022 | 16/04 | 12/11 |
| 2023 | 05/05 | 05/11 |
| 2024 | 03/05 | 12/11 |
| 2025 | 09/04 | TBC |
It would seem that the Calling is less about conditions and more about community, anticipation, and a shared psyche.
It’s the moment when the yearly Calling threads are revitalised with speculation, when every strange crow/tortoise behaviours are scrutinised.
As one climber lamented regarding one year’s Call of the lime, while he was on the Bowderstone, (perhaps not the place to complain of conditions but it was poetic enough to be included):
“The Bowderstone itself seemed to give a convulsive shrug, as though the very fabric of the Universe had rejected me. The sun still shone, the birds still sang, but the world was a different, less friendly place. A glass ceiling had been placed on my ambitions: a barrier to fulfilment only perceptible to those who dare to strive.”
In the end, the Calling is less about the rocks and more about the rituals that bind a community.
They’re a reminder that, in climbing as in life, sometimes the best traditions are the ones that make the least sense, and make the most laughter.
So next time you see a cryptic post from a shadowy forum member, or you feel that first chill in the air, ask yourself: “Is it time for the Call?”
Only the Callers know for sure, but you’ll feel it once it’s truly in.
Appendix:
The best grit calls from UKB user ‘Johnny Brown’ compiled:
2013:
Early start this morning... Knute before dawn. We ran, the sun rose. Rainbows kicked from the dew, frost in the hollows. It's time!
2014:
The grit was called yesterday morning, after consuming an heroic dose of Amanita I was able to commune with him with the cocked leg and we ran through khute til it was done. Unfortunately due to the almighty hangover, the queue wanting to drink my piss and the vagaries of French mobile data that I was unable to post til now. Enjoy.
2015:
It's not been an easy few weeks. I thought I caught a glimpse of him a month back, but if it was I couldn't catch him. I went out tonight on the off chance, and there he was horns and all. Should all be downhill from here, enjoy folks!
2016:
So... I nearly caught him last week, but he gave me the slip. Leaving me sweating.
Today he was waiting. The quail-headed crow did call, and the deed was done. It's all downhill from now on. Enjoy!
2020:
It's been a strange one. Dodging the Peak Park Rangers aside, I had four of the five three weeks back and was anticipating an early call. But the final one proved elusive, until dawn this morning. I think Red Roddy has been shielding tbh, he's getting on.
2021:
Last sign, as I'd hoped, at 6am this morning. A beautiful dawn over Khute, mist in the valleys and a taste of hope in the wind. The wheel has come full circle.
2023:
Tough one this year, four of the five came early, but the last required a plashing chase. He seems more elusive year on year; shrouded by mists, strangely opaque. Is it my eyesight fading, or the changing congregation?
2024:
Another weird one. Two signs repeatedly revealed to me before the equinox, then nothing. Then I saw him move behind the horns but couldn't follow. At last I thought it would be yesterday, but the big man wasn't there. And then, today, he was. Yes, to dance across the diamond slab with one hand waving free...
All images Copyright to Author (Ilia Nadyrbayev) of Blog
