Our Lot

I'll not dwell on the past few weeks, suffice to say the weather in the Peak has been as bad as I can remember - wet, dull, windy.

That's My Lot - originally E8 7a, now 7c+/ 8a?

Nige took his weather frustration out on lichen. One route in particular - That's My Lot at Rivelin quarries. A perfect twenty-five foot quarried edge, slabby on the right but leaning out on the left. A few footholds to get started, then nothing, just the square edge and smooth iron-plated smears. No repeats in ten years, since Nik Jennings' visionary scamper immortalized in A film by some climbers. After doing the sequence once on a top-rope Nige set to work improving the landing - a fallen tree across a rocky slope. With the stump tidied and the holes filled, things looked a lot more encouraging.

another good go from Ryan - even hitting the hold wasn't enough

And so yesterday, at last, the rain stopped, and the team assembled. Crisp sunlight filtered through the woods, a fresh breeze dried the air, and life was good again. I'm not sure I've ever been at the crag with such a strong team - Varian, Feehally, Pasquill, McHaffie just to name the big guns. A pretty good selection of folk currently pushing the Peak highball scene, and a good vibe. After a brief warm-up on the deceptive Sex Drive, it was on to the main event. The start was fine, getting established okay, then it was shut down time. Teeter, creep, lean, off. To cut a long story short, after three hours no one had done it and it was going dark. Testament to the quality though, was that nobody gave up. Only Nige and Ryan were making serious inroads, both tickling the jug. For a second it was over - Ry stuck the jug only to swing straight into a solid bridge across the corner, feet on a huge ledge. Cheers turned straight to laughter and hoots of derision. A perfect illustration of how arbitrary these problems can be, but it wasn't diminished, and the challenge remained. Next go there were no mistakes - Ry sucked in, extended like a leech, and snagged the break static.