UKC

The night before you go ice-climbing

Your crampons are in your garage
Your axes are under your bed
Your gloves are in your sock-drawer
Your helmet is in your shed

Your heart is in your mouth.

(c) Sophie G 21.12.16

In reply to Sophie G.:

sounds like you need a gear cupboard

In reply to Michael Gordon:

I tried that. It just increased by 1 the range of possible Places I Might Have Left Stuff.

This is a variant of the Esperanto Problem

In reply to Sophie G.:

Take care lass - and sleep well.

In reply to BusyLizzie:

The night before, I never do. But thanks

In reply to Sophie G.:
your rucsacs too full and heavy
your axe not the latest design
youre worried about what is coming
don't panic lass you'll be fine

In reply to leon 1:

Aww Leon! <blushes>

PS Bloody IS the latest design

In reply to Sophie G.:

All my gear is ready and
And the sandwiches are done
But the forecast has scuppered me
Before the fun's begun

In reply to Sophie G.:

The frozen grass under your feet
As you set off in the night
The sun slowly rises
As the crag comes into sight

You wade through the powder
You’re first in the queue
There’s other weekend warriers
Coming up behind you

The gears arranged
Helmets put on
The leader sets off
The climbings begun

Tenative swings
Wild crampon kicks
Scrapping rock noises
From blunt ice axe picks

The rope goes tight
It’s time to follow
The ice feels precarious
Possibly hollow

Your turn to lead
To run the rope out
There’s no *uckin gear
You let out a shout

A crappy peg runner
A rusty old wire
You search for a stance
The protection is dire

On up you fight
With numb fingers and toes
The pitches ticked off
As the sun slowly goes

Eventually it ends
And what a great day
A sense of euphoria
As kits packed away

Back down the hill
In the snow and the mist
Whats on for tomorrow
What’s next on the list

In reply to Sophie G.:

I find that the beer in the pipe ends up in my belly too.

In reply to Sophie G.:


I'm yet to try ice climbing, but being similarly dis/organised, I've suddenly rebelled against my ways and put up a tool board with hooks on in my porch and started having a place for everything.

It seems if I can't rely on my mind to remember - I'm going to put things *there* instead. I don't quite know when I changed in spirit from the hapless teenager to somebody pleased with their tool board.

Happy ice climbing.

In reply to Timmd:
So as a serious reply (but I do like beer), during the season my winter kit is always packed. First thing back from an outing is to sort it all for the next time, re-rack, re-coil, put the tools on the pack, change batteries, wash the stinky stuff etc. Makes the next trip trivial in execution - just add food and water!

In reply to James Jackson:
Same kind of thing. I think I'm still the same in spirit as the teenager I was, I'm just more organised.

In reply to Sophie G.:

Have a great trip

In reply to Sophie G.:
Dodgy partner too I hear!

In reply to Sophie G.:

Glattes Eis, ein Paradeis
für den, der gut zu tanzen weiß.

(not my lines, I hasten to say)

In reply to felt:



Fixed that for you, lovely sentiment...

In reply to jonnie3430:

Thanks, much better in the context; it retains the double meaning and still scans so nicely!

In reply to Sophie G.:

Sack permanently packed, as is grab bag.

Where the **** are those boots?

In reply to Jim Fraser:


When I got home Simon's were in the back of my car. And my rucksack was in the back of his car. Aargh!
Your approach is the right one, obviously. I keep meaning to adopt it

In reply to marsbar:


We did! Lochnagar in a whiteout and gusting 50... plenty of Type B Fun!

In reply to rogerwebb:


Oh, you know. He abseiled down to retrieve one of his warthogs when I couldn't lift it, then climbed back up and carried on leading. So certainly one of us was dodgy

In reply to Sophie G.:

He always did over drive his gear.

Sounds like an excellent day.

In reply to Sophie G.:

Good effort! What did you climb, Sophie?

BTW does anyone know why on earth warthogs are called warthogs, given the lack of any remote visual or tactile resemblance? Come to think of it, bulldog is another complete misnomer. Next time I invent a piece of winter gear, it's getting called the armadillo. Actually, that might be quite a good name for a banana protector cammed on into an off-width...

In reply to Sophie G.:

"It's going to be a great day tomorrow. Anyone fancy a dram?"

"Aye, go on then! Just the one, mind"

"Well that went down well. Space for another?"

"Where did that bottle go! Shall we crack another?"

Followed four hours (of broken sleep) later by

"Whose f**king idea was it to open the whisky?"

In reply to Toccata:


[chuckle] I did take my partner a Christmas bottle of wine. He's a pro. He was having none of it

In reply to rogerwebb:


Is the trouble with climbing with an engineer. HE knows how to get it out. I'm just a poor bloody philosopher. I haven't a clue

In reply to Sophie G.:

I've also found that one of my climbing partners who is a dentist is particularly good at extracting stuck gear and positively relishes the challenge

In reply to Tricadam:

The studded pattern (to someone with imagination) is like that of a warthog.

In reply to Sophie G.:

Cheap grab bag from Go Outdoors.


(WARNING! Like gear, mark yours so that you grab the right one out of the boot: especially if your keys are in it!!)

In reply to jonnie3430:
Das wäre doch schön gewesen, wenn es überhaupt Eis gegeben hätte!

In reply to Sophie G.:
Found this in the back of a notebook...


The bags are all packed, the forecast is sound,
The axes are sharpened, there's snow on the ground.
Warm up on the walk-in, the line's in condition,
Perched high on the crag, an outrageous position.
Cold hands on the belay, what on earth is he doing?
At last hear the call, it's time to get moving.
Hot tea from the flask with that feignt hint of plastic,
The neve is perfect, this route is fantastic.
My turn to lead, and the crux pitch seemed easy,
Stand on the summit for that photo so cheesy.
Rushing from work, to drive overnight,
The mountains are calling, be there by first light.

That week, Scotland was the warmest place in bloody Europe.
Spent all of it sulking in the hut with nothing better to do than write silly songs!

In reply to Sophie G.:

Try sleep tight and don't let the mosquitos bite.

In reply to bouldery bits:

BB: your poem reminds me strongly of The Mamas and the Papas' 'California Dreamin'

All my gear is out... (all my gear is out)
and my sandwiches done (and my sandwiches done)
but the forecast has scuppered me (...forecast has scuppered me)
before the fun's begun (before the fun's begun)

Oh, I'd be scared and cold (be scared and cold)
if I was in the Lakes (if I was in the Lakes!)
Oh, gully climbing dreamin' (gully climbing dreamin')
On such a winter's day!

Stopped into a church
I passed along the way
Oh, I got down on my knees (got down on my knees)
and I began to pray -
Oh, you know I like the cold
But, it's begun to rain...

Oh, gully climbing dreamin' (gully climbing dreamin')
On such a winter's day!