We sat beneath Cenotaph Corner utterly dejected. We had just failed on the Girdle Traverse of the Cromlech. The day before we had failed on Suicide Wall at Idwal. It was sometime in the early 80's. The day was boiling hot, the rock bone dry and yet there was no one around. I looked up at the piece of gear we had left in the Corner when we abbed off. The red sling waved in the breeze as if to say 'bye losers'. I knew we would just leave it there now and go home.
Suddenly the bright day turned dark. A silhouetted figure black as night blotting out the light. No words were spoken. He moved to the foot of the Corner and looked up. He was now in full sunlight. Rippling muscles with no shirt to hide them. Golden hair flowing towards bright red tights. "It's Robert Plant" I thought to myself. He moved away to the start of the Girdle Traverse and soloed effortlessly across Left Wall, where retrieving our abandoned gear he continued down the Corner. We were gobsmacked! He nonchalantly dropped the gear at our feet. He still didn't speak. I squeaked a "thank you". I wanted to ask him so much more but was frozen in the moment. He turned and disappeared quickly up the Corner. Then he was gone.
We looked at each other in disbelief. At that stage in our climbing we hadn't seen anything like it. "Err what just happened?" asked my mate. "I think a god just returned our gear" I replied. " Or maybe someone from Led Zeppelin, but still a god"I added.
Years later I found out who it was. I'm sure some here may have known and climbed with him. It was a one of those moments in climbing you never forget.
