writing | Miney Mo
Some easy climbing in Dartmoor turns into a grand little adventure with dubious gear placement.
Easy short climbing, with polished hand holds and nice top outs. The first two routes had been relatively uneventful, which is no surprise given the grade, but the third was more fun.
Climbing on the south face at Chudleigh was the only realistic option given the recent rain. The band of limestone has several buttresses, corners and crags of varying size and grade, in a sheltered woodland setting that gets the sun. No brainer.
At the bottom of Miney on the Eeny Meeny buttress, I tied in. While most of the crag was drying nicely in the sun, there was still some water seeping through. I looked up at the route to spot places for gear and rest. Thinking I had it nailed, I took the first few metres on some nice easy holds and ledges, placing two small nuts as I went.
Climbed past the gear, I traversed right to take the groove up to the finish. Reaching up I stuck my hand in a wet greasy pocket to my right.
“FUUUUUCK” shaking the wet from my hand into the air while hanging on with the other.
“what’s up?” Sally asked.
Laughing I replied “Wet pocket, felt greasy and weird, lovely little surprise”
Wiping my hand, I dipped it into the chalk bag and looked around. I found somewhere else to reach for and kept climbing, finding another nice little crack to slide a nut into.
Looking up, I could see there didn’t appear to be many placement options to protect me before I topped out. I started climbing to get a better look. Nothing. Faced with hanging on and getting tired before taking a fall, or climbing on, hoping to find something, I kept going.
Maybe another metre before stopping again.
I needed something to protect me, and spotted a horizontal crack just below the top. I couldn't see into the crack but could reach it, so I estimated a piece of gear and jammed it in, before tugging at it. It seemed kosher so I clipped in and, with a new found confidence in this shoddy placement, I climbed up.
Getting past the gear I could see it was jammed in with dumb luck and mud. After an awkward mantle onto the edge of the crag, I rolled over with the grace of an elephant.
Laughing, I looked back down at Sal and watched three serious-looking climbers walk past, wondering what was so funny. Not giving me a second glance, they continued their conversation and kept walking.
After Sally had climbed up and retrieved the gear she showed me the last piece of gear, a green number 11 nut caked in mud.
“it was hanging on for dear life”
On the walk back down I thought about my decision to just stick something in and hope. Climbing is about accepting the risks and building up mental resilience to the exposure and danger associated with it. While it might appear cavalier to jam a nut in a crack and climb on it, I had accepted the risk of taking a fall. I just needed the mental confidence that something was in.
It's a head game that needs to be won. That and sometimes you just need to rely on dumb luck to get you through.
This touched a chord for me, great writing, capturing a moment and a feeling and the wider world. Loving the little snapshots of your life.