I’d backed off this crux and lowered from a dicey knotted sling; Tony took over and after an epic fight with greasy jams and blind cracks proclaimed it to be “the most bloody desperate VI in Saxony” (he’s onsighted IXa; we found out in the evening that it’s been upgraded to VIIa). He got the sling in place, finished the route and I was then able to follow. We seem to be collecting sandbags on this trip, but this one took the biscuit.