The second meet of the year began with a nice surprise. The
gamble we had taken by tactically breaking the last CD player had paid off
spectacularly with the installation of a new one with the luxury of an AUX in.
In line with this driver James had prepared a monster playlist (with a bit of
Miley Cyrus on for some reason). We set off with a full bus, including a couple
of new faces in Mariam and Ellie, with Dave convoying behind with Jack and
Charlie. The weather for the weekend looked, diplomatically speaking, dodgy.
There were warnings for rain and wind but as we know the Lakes has its own
microclimate so despite the shithouse forecast we held out some hope of getting
some climbing done, particularly on the Saturday.
The drive up was uneventful and rapid until we reached the
Lakes, with the main highlights being James T’s grumpiness at being evicted
from the front seat by Brad, and Brad and I rapping through most of Eminem’s
Business in true/imagined) ‘g’ fashion. The disgusting weather and the
horrendous roads soon spiced it up a bit though, with James manfully dragging
the bus up 30 degree inclines as I became horribly convinced I’d blown it
really hard. Thank god Blea Tarn car park eventually appeared and we parked up
and headed down to the hut. Anyone who has ever stayed at the Loft before knows
it is more than a bit esoteric, with its outside toilet, lack of hot water and
broken oven the main problems this time around (thanks a lot Lidiya/Ali…). As
Jack struggled to get the water on we had a few beers and when Jack joined us,
I reminded him to get the bin bags and bog roll. His reaction swiftly told us
he had surpassed Pembroke by yet again forgetting everything. Abuse duly
followed and Jack’s fate was sealed for the rest of the trip, the reaction even
worse considering he had already been stung previously! We headed to bed hoping
to find a rainless morning…
The alarm went off far too early at 7 after a night’s sleep
damaged by everyone’s incessant coughing- Dave and Steve in particular sounded near
death. A quick peek outside the door told me it was pitch dark but miraculously
dry. We rapidly got ready and headed off to the Lakes staple crag, Shepherds.
We parked up and geared up as a runway sheep descended the trail at rapid speed
and headed straight onto the road, somehow avoiding getting run over. A tired
and grumpy Lally got some morning tea with Mariam and Dave as the rest of us
headed to the crag. Predictably, Brown Slabs was pretty soggy, particularly on
its lower section below the first tree, which conveniently is where there is no
gear on any of the routes. Having split everyone into groups, people tentatively
got leading, with Jack leading Brown Slabs (Diff) as warmup after nearly breaking his ankle on the
walk in. James got on Brown Slabs Direct and Amy on a VDish line somewhere to
the left of that, while Lally eventually rocked up and racked up for his Brown
Slabs Arete VD. Both Lally and James were in childlike states of excitement at
the prospect of dirtying their brand new racks.
Seeing as everyone was getting on it, Brad, Steven and I
headed over to Little Chamonix VD. I led the first pitch in big boots, in
hindsight a terrible call as it was soaking. Brad took over for the 2nd
pitch to the Saddle belay and I finished it up the steep final wall. The route
passed off without incident, apart from Brad dropping his ATC-Guide from the
Saddle belay- to the bottom of the crag. Despite a search it was unfound so if
anyone sees anything on UKC let him know! We headed back to the slabs for some
food and found everyone descending. Tom and James M were racking up for their
first leads so I soloed to the top to attempt to teach them top setup, while
Jack headed off to do Kransic Crack Direct with Josh. Tom carefully picked his
way to the top and set his belay up with only one or two problems (mostly
caused by me confusing him) but the real theatre was on James’ lead. He had
slung the tree and placed a bombproof nut when his foot slipped off the slimy
rock, swiftly followed by his hands. A first trad whipper on his first lead was
the result, which James’ remained remarkably calm for! This sounds hugely punterish
but I can assure you the rock was skank- at any rate at least the gear worked!
James finished it up with few problems and I confused him hugely at the top by
teaching my idiosyncratic top setup, before descending what it still the most
dangerous walk off I have ever encountered.
I was pretty psyched to get on the E2 MGC which I failed to
second in first year so I headed off to get on it with Brad, leaving Jack to
keep watch. Despite a bit of a wobble at the bouldery crux and the slimy top
out it was dispatched- definitely soft for E2 as the gear was bombproof but I’m
taking the tick! Brad seconded clean and we headed back to the crag to hear
stories of Dave blowing it on a Diff and getting his green hex welded into the
crack. Meanwhile Steve, Tom and Brad psyched up for leads and Lally, either
through bravery or stupidity decided to get on the slimy VS corner that Frosty
aided up in the wet a few years back. To his credit he made it look easy and I
followed him up, very glad I hadn’t led it! We made it in one piece to the
bottom (Lally did stack it in hilarious fashion) as Charlie succeeded in
finally extricating Dave’s hex from the rock and the weather started to close
in. The decision was wisely made to call it a day and Lally and Brad headed to
the café as we waited for stragglers. Sods law dictated it pissed it down just
as we started the walk off so we all got soaked, but given the weather forecast
the day had been a massive bonus. After a quick Booth’s stop where a madman in
a van hit our minibus, we went back to the hut where drinking and dreadfulness
ensued. A very slopey table traverse was attempted with Brad emerging as the
winner, before Lally won the deadhang contest on the gloss-painted beams and
the now (in)famous press-up challenge destroyed the uninitiated. Jack manfully dispatched his dirty pint as
punishment for forgetting everything, and him and Charlie didn’t only have
their growing inebriation in common as the night continued (innuendo
intentional). A blow by blow description of the evening would probably
contravene Cameron’s planned internet censorship laws so I think I’ll leave it
there- we called it a night at 1 (probably just as well the more I think about
it…).
Sunday dawned pissing it down so we decided to walk up to
Stickle Tarn and Pavey Ark from the hut. Cleanup went well despite me filling
my hand with broken glass and bleeding everywhere, and we set off in dry yet
soggy conditions. After an initial 20 minutes on steep ground where everyone
realised how unfit they were, we got into the swing of it and reached the Tarn,
where we enjoyed a pretty damp lunch in bothy bags as the wind and rain fell.
We walked round to Pavey Ark, a seriously impressive crag, and Brad and Lally
set off up the scramble Jack’s Rake as the rest of us headed up ‘Easy Gully.’
However the winds on top of Pavey were gusting at a serious speed and with the
rain starting to become depressing we decided to bail having found Brad and
Lally at the top. The walk down was notable for the excessive number of stream
crossings, in which nearly everyone got soaking feet and I nearly knocked Jack
into Stickle Ghyll in an attempt to play the hero and stop him and Charlie
being blown in, with a brilliant crag dog providing further entertainment.
After a quick pub stop we headed back to the van and set off, with everyone wet
and cold but reasonably happy! Hilarious photos were taken of Jack as he slept
with his mouth wide open and we got back to Leicester without problems. Given
the shite forecast a days climbing was about as much as I could have hoped for-
bring on Wales and some slate!
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