I
have a lonely weekend looming, and I want to do something good with it. An old
school friend of my husband’s is into rock climbing, and is pretty experienced
too, so I decide to get in touch to see if he’s free. Getting his number, I send
a message asking if we could hit the crag together. When the reply comes it’s
an enthusiastic ‘yes’, and the wheels are set in motion for a weekend on the rock.
We
are lucky, and when the time comes the weather is cold but fine. Marcus has
invited another of his climbing friends, Stu, and we all meet up at Marcus’s
place in the Midlands the night before to discuss plans and prepare kit. We
have a great laugh, swapping stories and having a few drinks, the banter
between Marcus and Stu is hilarious and they seem to have a lot of funny
anecdotes about things going wrong, and getting caught out in the dark and
sleeping on mountainsides.
The
next morning we have a long drive ahead of us to North Wales’ Snowdonia
National Park, ready to take on the multi-pitch ‘Grooved Arête’ route up the east
face of Tryfan,
so of course we all wake up late and then waste more time seeking out the best
local Staffordshire Oatcakes for a hearty breakfast.
Eventually
though we make it to the base of the mountain, I have summited Tryfan before, a
mixture of hillwalking and scrambling to the top, but this will be my first
rock climbing here and I’m looking forward to it.
We
have a bit of hillwalking to do to get to the base of the climb, but the guys
know the area well and lead the way. They will also be leading the route
between them, as I don’t have the ropework skills for leading and can only
second. At each pitch the guys will swap over the lead, but I will join in with
belaying when I’m not climbing.
We
have packs with us containing food and drink, plus plenty of extra clothing for
the cold weather. It’s not particularly freezing, but sitting still to belay in
the shade of the mountain then the cold really gets to you. While we gear up
and pack any loose stuff away, we take in the great views of the valley below
us.
Then
the climbing begins, with Marcus leading the first pitch.
This
is my first proper multi-pitch climb, and apart from disliking being cold, I’m
finding it exhilarating. It’s so peaceful on the mountain where we are, and the
views are fantastic. Trad climbing like this is always a slow affair while you
are waiting around, the leader having to pause to place protection in the rock
face, and then the wait while they set up the next belay safely. But with this
slowness comes a chance to reflect on the joy of being outdoors, doing
something fun with great people, and having a feeling of achievement at being
there.
When
it’s my turn to climb I take a few minutes to get warmed up, my poor cold
fingers protesting at being put to work. Although I am carrying a pack and
collecting extra gear as I pass it, I don’t find it too strenuous and cope
easily enough with the climbing to find it pretty smooth, while it is still
challenging enough to feel like I am earning my time there.
We
climb higher and higher, achieving pitch after pitch, but eventually the
slowness of climbing with three people and the lateness of our start catches up
with us, and the sun sinks lower. As the sky darkens, we put on more warm kit
and eventually have to dig out our head torches. I see now that I should have
paid more attention to those earlier stories of getting stuck in the dark and
sleeping on mountainsides.
 | |
| The moon |
It’s
all good fun though, and I eventually begin my
climb up the final pitch. At one point I get pretty stuck, and just cannot work
out the move I need to follow the route. I make attempt after attempt, suffer
failure after failure, and fall a couple of times to be saved by the friction
of the rope through the protection and the belay. I start to despair a little –
the rock above means that the others haven’t heard me shouting to them that I’m
struggling, I can’t go down but am unable to make the move I need to continue
up. I can’t get out of my head the worry that I’m stuck there and I don’t know
what to do. Feeling the panic rise, I have a word with myself: Stay calm.
Panicking will make things worse. Take a pause, catch your breath. Reset
yourself and try again, but don’t rush it. Regaining my calm, I at last make
the move I need. The next pieces of gear were holding the rope at angles, and
are tough to remove as falling on the rope has jammed them tighter into the
rock cracks, but this is a small price to pay for the job of saving a fall.
Finally
I reach the top of the route, the boys are in good spirits; they had thought I was
taking my time but hadn’t realised anything was wrong, which is fine by me.
We pack
up all the gear and have a laugh about having to descend in the dark by head torch, before
finding a pathway down the mountainside.
The
next day we head to the Roaches area in England’s Peak District National Park
for a day of fun single pitch climbing.
We tackle several different routes and
have great time, but for me the real highlight has been the multi-pitch climb, nothing
can top that :)
