My stepfather Jim had been dead for around six months now and the harness I had watched him fall in was still sat in a bag in the garage along with a set of homemade hexs and a few wires and slings. The idea was to get rid of it once the inquest was over and done with, but the climbing bug that Jim had passed onto me hadn't been cured by his accident.

Every time the weather was dry I could hear the gear calling me from the garage and the draw soon became too much to ignore. Matt, a good friend and soon to be climbing partner, mentioned to me that he had just got his hands on an old climbing rope so we now had all we needed to get to the Roaches and get up some routes; 0r so we thought. At that point, neither of us appreciated the balls we would soon need to push ourselves up routes and over gear that we knew was probably crap and unlikely to hold. We had both done a small amount of outdoor climbing but only on top roped routes or seconds but thought we knew enough to survive the traditional game.

Whilst gearing up at the bottom of Right Route on the upper tier of the Roaches we tried to lighten the mood by joking about where the air ambulance was going to land, but in fact it was something that had quite seriously entered my mind. After shaking off the dark humour and nervousness, I took another look at the route and made one final check of my gear. I had blocked out any thought of what had happened to Jim and was completely focussing on the task at hand as I knew this was crucial to stop me talking myself into a hole I couldn't climb out from.

At around three meters it was time to place my first piece of gear, and I soon realised that it was a lot different doing it for real than in practice. I poked a hex into a crack and pushed on with a quick glance below to make sure Matt was still there! His grimacing face brought home the seriousness of my undertakings and an attack of disco leg began. I was terrified that every move I was making would be my last, but it was too late to back out now. As I headed towards the roof I was preying for some kind of thread so I could at least be confident I wasn't going to deck out, but no such luck. My only hope was to lace the crack above me with gear and hope that one piece would hold. “I am never going to climb again, this is horrible,” but as I pulled through the final move and onto the safety of the summit it became clear why I was there. Making the decision to face my fears, get onto the rock and use the gear I had inherited has proven to be the most important decision of my life. When I am on a route, the feeling of exuberance and freedom is surpassed by nothing else in the world...

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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