Afterglow

Our final Big Day Out was to a place I thought had long since been lost. Crag X was well known about in past decades (especially in the Peak), but over time the chances of finding any such venue have decreased exponentially. It was with some surprise that I answered my door one morning to discover a bearded gentleman on my doorstep, waving a completed script at me.

It was Tony Howard, the elder statesman of Wadi Rum exploration, and he was excited. He had emerged from the deserts of Saddleworth with a classic find under his belt. Twenty five routes from Diff to E2 were waiting for a suitably enthusiastic team, and we were ready and waiting! My picture shows Steve Delderfield and Rick Gibbon on the classic E2 of the crag "No Country For Old Men".

When the place is suitably cleaned and stabilised, and it's had a few winter storms it will provide an excellent local venue for those of you who feel bored the moment anyone suggests going to Hobson Moor.

This is not Eurovision

The comedy nature of the climbing over this last month might seem to suggest "null pwont" might be appropriate. However, the quality of our days out during that time have left us feeling as if we might receive a visit from Sir Terry of Wogan himself. For a whole month, a band of friends came together, ate, climbed, laughed and joked our way around the crags and moors of the Dark Peak. Every day had high points, and each person had something to contribute. Typical of our ethos was that Wednesday in week 2 when we set off from Edale to arrive at the top of Grindsbrook an hour later. As soon as we got there, the rain and clag came in. We waited for an hour, could see no end to the misery and went back down into Edale. As soon as we had finished our tea and cakes, the sun came out and dried up all the rain. We were faced with a choice of either going home and being frustrated, or going back up. We went back up! As Dave Birkett once said "It was a GOOD day." On the last day of the month, I sat by Kinder Downfall in the afterglow of a beautiful afternoon, and melancholy came over me. It was similar to that feeling you get when you leave a place that you have loved but know you will never return to. Perhaps, in an ideal world, the end of every day would be like that.