We reached Stanage Edge in the late afternoon, the setting sun casting a deep golden glow on the long face. We sat on the edge and dangled our legs onto the familiar rock- a homecoming to a place of so many happy memories. Peering below us we watched them; long sinewy arms and legs beneath the shell of thick down jackets, and wise, weather beaten faces underneath woolly hats. When fear of cold fingers scares off we mere mortal climbers, the true masters of grit come out to play.
Read more at http://www.ukclimbing.com/articles/page.php?id=1723