Autumn and winter were all about keeping going despite the lock down, trying to be tough and outdoorsy and climb with cold hands and all the time trying to cope with the illness and loss of my dear friend Anne. I never really went anywhere with Anne outside of Manchester. We both went off and had our adventures, she loved holidays in the Canaries, Portugal, trips home to Dublin, she’d lived abroad for years, spoke lots of languages. She loved to walk everywhere but the furthest we went together was Marbury in Cheshire and even then we got lost because she kept pressing the wrong buttons on my phone and messing up the Satnav. Our friendship was all about the city : cinema, theatre, going for lunch or coffee and chatting endlessly. Cosy and funny and a wonderful person to come back to after an adventure.
Grief is not a good climbing partner for me it turns out. I couldn’t climb well when I was sad because the fear and distress of losing my friend and watching her suffer kept hitting me at unexpected moments and making me doubt the world, myself and what on earth I was doing. Not a helpful feeling halfway up a route. Everything felt risky and uncertain which took the joy out of seeking more risks through climbing. Being out and about in the hills felt comforting but pushing myself to climb harder didn’t at all, it felt crazy and scary. The fact that I’d fallen off Cosmic Crack at Stanage at the end of the summer probably didn’t help much either. I felt OK at the time and happy that my gear had held in my first big trad fall but later I wondered if I was getting the balance right or taking too many risks at a time when my mind didn’t feel quite right.
The answer came in scrambling, you can keep moving, keep warmish and have lots of fun without getting terrified. Small problems appear but they are isolated and often comical. It doesn’t matter if you use your knees and finding holds in streams and encountering snow, water and ice was really fun. I have pristine crampons which I’ve never used but have optimistically taken out for a ride in my backpack. Even if there hasn’t been ice that is climbable there have been lots of beautiful icicles to admire and frozen rocks to slide over. I’ve learnt to trust the soles on my boots and find out just what they can grip (most things but not a road completely covered in ice). Scrambles that I’ve done so far are Wilderness gully near Dovestones, Nether Red Brook and Crowden Clough on Kinder. Nether Red Brook has a fun exit at the top that can be squeezed through in an old fashioned style, Wilderness gully included a crawl under the rocks and then a back and foot exit where my legs were only just long enough to enable my escape.
Another answer was top roping difficult but enjoyable routes while the crag was quiet, one of my favourites was Three Pebble Slab at Froggatt. I loved working out how to climb it without having to fear for my life at the same time. I did try to learn to love seconding too, that’s a work in progress but there were times when it was quite fun, especially when there were no cracks involved like Green Streak at Stanage.
There has been great joy in escaping the city and the house and seeing friends and meeting other climbers out and about, all complicated by the pandemic but maybe that makes me appreciate it all the more when I do go out. Thanks to my friends and climbing companions and to Rob for the top two photos. The last word goes to the wonderful Anne. When I asked her if she wanted me to go round and help one Sunday she texted back: “it’s a beautiful day, get yourself up a mountain”.
idrathereatgrass 