Sunburn at Stanage

Stanage Edge, Derbyshire, 27/5/99

As celebration for finishing my second year exams on wednesday morning, I went to Caley. Then went clubbing. Well, there are such things as priorities. Getting up at 9 after dancing till 2 was quite hard, but considering the day ahead, well worth the effort as it turned out...

I walked to Ruth's flat only 10 minutes late to meet her and smiley chris. The glorious sunshine all the way down the M1 helped distract me from my aching legs and sore head. Stopped at Ruth's parent's house in Sheffield for tea to ease our hangovers and to pick up some gear, then without _too_ much hanging around, we left for Stanage. 5, no 4, 3, no 2 minutes from the house to Stanage. Well, 10 minutes really.

We arrived at the popular end at about 12 o'clock. The only people there were a group of schoolkids in shiny white helmets and a small bunch of people on what appeared to be a leading course. I had only been to Stanage once before, a year ago, and spent all day bouldering, so I had no idea what the routes were going to be like. Ruth suggested we warm up on Heather Wall, so we did. I got the lead - a really nice climb with bomber gear, and a great start to the day. Sitting at the top belaying Chris and Ruth up I realised what a fantastic day this was going to be - the sky was clear, just a few fluffy clouds, and the whole of the peak district was laid out before me.

We moved along to Gargoyle Buttress, which Chris lead while I belayed and a random person, who appeared to be associated with the leading course, took photos. Yet another great climb, and the smile on Chris's face when I reached him at the top was as wide as the sky.

It was Ruth's turn to lead and she chose Via Media. By this time, three girls from the Leeds Met CC whom Ruth knew had turned up, rather reluctant to climb when it was such perfect sunbathing weather. Eventually they climbed the severe to the right of Via Dexter, while Chris seconded Ruth and I toproped the fine fingery wall (E2 5c? Can't remember the name) right of Via Media.

It was my turn to lead again, so we walked back the way we'd been to the climb I'd been looking forward to ever since reading about Ant's amazing efforts at the Mammothon - Flying Buttress Direct. I recruited Chris to take photos while ruth belayed. Two good nuts and a friend under the roof wouldn't stop me hurting myself on the slab if I fell, but at least I wouldn't roll all the way down to the ground. After a few attempts to find the big hold on the lip (full stretch on a full lock off and I could _just_ touch it) I climbed down for a rest at the top of the slab, shook out, chalked up. Got back into position, pulled and stretched and found the hold. Cut loose, brought my left hand up, then swung my leg up for the heelhook. Pull, another hard pull as in the excitement I'd forgotten to heelhook again, a sneaky knee and I was standing 20ft above my gear with the hugest grin in the world on my face. I stuck in a friend, climbed the easy wall and belayed, still grinning my face off. The most exhilarating route I've ever done, and an absolute classic. Ruth didn't "feel strong enough, and besides, I want to lead it someday," so Chris seconded, climbing in much better style than I had, while Ruth got a photo of him on the crux, foot higher than his head, as his sunhat blew off in the breeze.

In fine spirits we ate some food and set off to find something for Chris to lead. "That looks like a damn fine climb," he said - a thin crack which stopped and started it's way up a wall with a couple of big holes in, a great cave and the crack continuing straight up over the top. So we looked it up in the guidebook. Robin Hood's Cave Inominate (?) with Harding's superdirect finish HVS 5a. "No problem," said Chris, smiling as only he does. Ruth's stepfather Andrew turned up, having walked to the crag, and settled down to watch as he rested. Chris managed the initial VS crack in fine style; lovely delicate moves up a near vertical wall, not really a crack climb at all. Sitting in the sun belaying him, watching his graceful flowing movements and talking everything about nothing to my friends at the bottom with me; this was one of then best moments of the day. With a cry of delight and a sneaky dropped knee Chris pulled over the roof to a round of applause from the Met girls who had caught up with us. Seconding him, I could appreciate what a fine climb this was - at the top end of the VS grade, the first section involving balancy reaches above good nuts, and the direct finish putting you in a wonderful position, reaching out over the roof to a perfect jam, with your feet bridged wide over an 80ft drop. Yet another absolutely classic climb, better even than FBD.

It was now after 5 o'clock. Ruth recommended The Scoop (HVS 5b) to me: "I led it when I was 15 and I shat myself". She went to do a route with Andrew, while we watched a man self-toprope The Scoop so we could see where it went, the guidebook description not being too helpful. Once he had finished I started up. A very awkward start with a solid hex led to a precarious stance on sloping holds. A friend placement at my feet wasn't quite as much gear as I would have liked as I reached up two two halfway decent pockets and pulled up above them to a break. There were no placements here, the break was too flared to accept a friend, and my hands were relying totally on friction alone, which was not too great on the warm rock with nervous sweat on my palms. I couldn't see the next move at all. I was gripped. Heart in my mouth and balls in my stomach, I traversed left to an easy crack and downclimbed back to my last friend. Lots of chalk later and I made the move up to the pockets again. This time I could see where I was meant to go: the edge of a flake showed the way into a short crack above and to my right, which led to the next break. Unfortunately the crack was too wide and rounded to offer any holds but with my legs shaking I got in a large friend. The break above was even worse than the one before, so I gingerly lowered myself onto the friend for a rest, psychological more than physical. Once my legs had stopped shaking quite so much I chalked up, got back on and managed to climb up to where I could get a very dodgy 0.5 quadcam, and without stopping to think I carried on up until the final break below the top. A good friend and an easy move got me to the top, shivering with relief and adrenaline. Setting up the belay relaxed me enough to appreciate the climb I had just done - bold and constantly hard, in the days before friends it must have been an extremely serious route.

We finished off the day with Chris leading Mississipi Buttress(?), a fine VS crack and a great route to end the day on. A glow in our muscles matched that in our hearts and the sky as we headed off into the sunset and the pub, a good way to finish one of the most enjoyable day's climbing I've had.
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