UKC

My First Outdoor Lead (47) - High on K2

© Peakology
photo
Tiny, tiny sheep. #1
© Peakology

In one moment it all changed. Like looking into the dusk and suddenly seeing the bush turn into a bear. Up until now we had been running up gritstone classics on a top rope, becoming so routine the fear had faded away. Crofty and I had run up to Hen Cloud, pointed at K2 and said 'That'll do'. We had three hexes on perlon knotted by something that I now know was not even close to a fisherman's. We also had three wires (one a battered 'keeper' liberated from Phallic Crack ) a few Krabs and two furry slings.

The Croft ran up the first pitch in a flow of udge, jam and jump. One hex fitted; 'That'll do'. I followed him onto the ledge. The next pitch seemed to be a short crack. I got in the walnut 6 (the new wire). We stood on the ledge looking at the un-extended shiny slice of aluminium pinched by a couple of rugosities, and we felt proud of being 'cragsmen'. I led upwards enjoying the friction on my oak stiff Boreal Ballets. I couldn't seem to get my hand off to get another piece of gear in but that was OK, in the words of Jack Kerouac 'I realised that it was impossible to fall off a mountain'. I got to a pinnacle/ledge at the top of the second pitch and dropped a sling over the block that I then sat on to belay.

I looked out at the view, clipped in the irritating sprung Sticht Plate and started fishing for Croft. Rope came up in handfuls, then stopped. There was a wriggling tension in the line and then the world simultaneously slowed down and raced away. I remember the tiny sheep a long way below me as the rope went very tight, trapping my fingers and leg against the bulge. The sole sling slid upwards in sickening leaps and my cheap orange cotton trousers started to slide off the block. Then the moment happened.

Before, I had been fifteen and immortal, climbing was a fun way to avoid the footpath. Now I knew that Jack Kerouac was a bloody liar. The moment held and stretched. The scratch of rope, orange cotton and sling on grit was all I could hear. All I could see was the tiny, tiny sheep. Eventually 'Oblivious Croft' got back on and danced up to the block, blinked at the sling and moved quickly through. Sick, cold, white and greasy I followed him to the top. We sat either side of the mini amphitheatre and stared at each other. In that one moment we went from being 'rugged cragsmen' to witless scared children. Up until that moment the sight of Hen Cloud from the Leek road had always filled me with excitement, from then onwards (and still 19 years later) it is excitement tempered by that heart stopping moment.

Triple fisherman's, three point belays, regular gear, three yanks to fix a wire and many other lessons learned.

dmm-writing_comp

www.dmmclimbing.com

Write approximately 500 words about your first outdoor lead and supply an image of you climbing (not necessarily your first lead) and submit to: http://www.ukclimbing.com/articles/send.html

The competition will be judged by us here at DMM and the winner announced on Monday 24th December and will win a complete DMM rack worth £500.

But more than that, everyone who submits an essay will receive a spot prize.

More details HERE


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