Seems like a long time since I posted anything here. Probably something to do with the total dearth of climbing that's been going on in my life since I got back from Red Rocks. This is in return not unrelated to the fact that my girlfriend is pregnant and we're expecting the arrival of a squalling bundle of joy at some point in late June. At the same time, and for reasons which are still not entirely clear to me, I've signed up to do the Fred Whitton (that's 111 miles of very hilly cycling around the Lake District in early May, if you feel like sponsoring me you can do that here). So, what free time I have has been somewhat taken up with poncing around in lycra masochistically cycling up hills. For fun. Oh yes. I am well aware that this is sick and wrong, but it's too late to back out now...
Anyway, I could write a long and rambling blog post about impending fatherhood, or the secret joys of clawing your way up Hardknott on a bike in the pissing rain. But that doesn't really feel appropriate somehow. The good news is that I have actually managed to climb some rocks recently. Huzzah. Twice even. How did this come to pass in between exciting bouts of nursery painting, buggy shopping, shed creosoting and hill reps on Blake Street? Well...
As is fast becoming traditional, Mr Pooler and I had concocted a plan to go to Scotland and climb some mountains, only to be confronted a few days before by an apocalyptic weather forecast. So we made a new plan to go to Wales and finish off Alistair's round of the Welsh Nuttalls (that's a class of hills over 2000ft popular amongst inveterate tedious peak baggers like Mr Pooler and I). As part of this plan we found ourselves nipping up the north ridge of Tryfan for old time's sake. Some years ago Oli and I (and a team of willing idiots) had attempted to climb a Diff called Anniversary Approach on the scrappy ground at the bottom of the north ridge, but had run away in the face of pouring rain and general misery, so this seemed like a good opportunity to both right a wrong and climb some rocks. After some adventurous-feeling questing up a good old fashioned chimney I found myself marooned atop a large flake. The guidebook suggested I wander rightwards for a bit, stride across a gap and scramble to glory. That way lay vertical heather and certain death, so I found myself freestyling into the unknown. Luckily for me there was just enough solid rock amongst the precipitous vegetation and I eventually found my way back to the beaten track, suitably chastened. Who'd have thought an unstarred Diff might not have been that well travelled? Hmmm.
Anyway, fast forward a month or so to the last few days. After a morning spent diligently entertaining his 2 year old son with trains and ducks, Oli and I had built up enough brownie points with our respective partners to sneak out for a few hours. We consulted several guidebooks and eventually decided to eschew the esoteric delights of overgrown and fally-downy Lancashire limestone for some proper rock in Langdale. After a brief examination of a few damp, rubbish-looking, or damp and rubbish-looking routes we found ourselves below the left-hand end of East Raven Crag. Many, many years ago (more than I care to remember), I'd followed my friend Gwilym up a route here, a Severe called Mamba, and it felt like the living end. This time it felt marginally easier, but all of the gear was very confusing and it felt a bit like I was in possession of somebody else's limbs. Still, I got to the top in one piece, so that was a minor victory of sorts. Oli then manned up and tackled the VS direct version, which was good fun. With a narrowing window of opportunity before we had to head back to the girls, I then raced (or at least, attempted to race) up a recently discovered HS at the right-hand end of the main Raven Crag. It showed its youth a bit, with a fair few snappy holds, but it was a good line and it'll clean up to make a really cracking pitch. All in all, a good reminder of what this trad lark is all about. Hopefully I can manage to find time in my life over the rest of the year to keep my eye in a bit. We shall see...
PS Sorry, I was so busy marvelling at the novelty of actually climbing something that I failed entirely to take any pretty pictures. Sadface.
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