Leading lady

Didn't make it to Pembroke in the end. Faced with the long drive, contending with the bank holiday traffic, we decided to wait until Saturday morning, but inevitably when the alarm sounded at 7am, the temptation to stay in bed was too great. The weather forecast wasn't brilliant either, and we had stacks of things to do preparing for the trip, such as trying to find somewhere to stay for 8 weeks in Val Thorens. Besides, there's plenty of climbing to be had locally. After a good lie-in, Saturday saw us rooting through the summer season sale at Snow & Rock and Sarah got herself an absolute bargain Pac Lite jacket from The North Face, which at 40% off was almost embarressingly good value. I finally managed to get myself a new set of ski poles at next to nothing. In the evening, we decided on a self-catering apartment in V-T, supposedly capable of sleeping 4 people, which at 27 square metres will certainly be cozy. Good to have this sorted.

On Sunday we made it to Shorn Cliff, where I led 'One Less White...', (HVS 4c), outrageously overgraded, and Sarah took on 'Emotional Dyslexia' (HVS 5a), a route I'd done in the very distant past. A fine effort, and a sign of what was to come. We then moved up the block to the right, and I led the supposed classic of the crag 'Motion Pictures' (E1 5b). It's nice, but its 3-star billing should mean 'of national importance' which it clearly is a long way from being. On reflection, I probably veered too far to the left at the top. Still. Then we did 'Touch the Fire' (E2 5b) next door, a lovely little technical number up the concretions, almost like an indoor route. A bit bold, but never desperate. We then legged it back to make it to Nick and Jo's BBQ for 7. Well, 8.

Bank holiday Monday we headed for Wintour's. Called in to see Paul and Linda, and ended up chatting for a while, playing with the kids. In the back of my mind I'd hatched the idea of trying to get Sarah on the amenable 'Ecliptic' (E1 5b) to try to break the spell of the grade. Sarah's a very capable climber, with more than 200 logged routes, including some gnarly leads, like Stanage's 'Fern Crack'. She's also recently ticked some HVSs on lime stone, and some sport routes in the mid sixes. She rarely fails to second me up anything ('Split Flies' is the only example I can think of recently, but that's a special case anyway with its long reaches). E1 is a huge psychological barrier though. She has done Froggatt's 'Three Pebble Slab' at E1 5a, but it's both well known to be a soft touch, and playing to her strengths as a gritstone ballerina slab meister. Yet, I don't think she's in a hurry to do that one again, as its extreme run-out proved to be a bit of an emotional roller-coaster ride at the time.

We dropped down on the rope to the ledge. She wasn't exactly extatic, feeling that the route looked hard, butch and overhanging as we abbed down the line. I sometimes let my enthusiasm for her climbing run away with me, and I know I have to let her come to these things at her own speed. She has two faces at the start of a route. The first is the resigned, 'I've failed already' look, all wet puppy dog, and the second is the 'don't mess with me' all British Steel, grit and determination. I could see that this wasn't going to work from the outset. She ummed and ahhed for a bit, bit finally took the sharp end of the ropes, went up to the break and placed the first nut. She swung around the arete, didn't like the look of the next bit, and reversed, disappointed and angry. Mainly with me. We swapped over, and I climbed up to the top, and brought her up on the second. When she came up she was even angrier. "I can't believe you almost sent me up that! It was <expletive> nails". I was somewhat puzzled by this, having now done this route twice finding it very steady, and honestly believing that she'd breeze it. Of course, being a man I have proportionally greater power and a longer reach to my advantage, but this route did not particularly require either. I suggested I lower her off to the ledge again so that she could have another go. This time, pulling over her words were "it actually felt easy..".

We had some lunch, chatting about what had just happened. I know from my own experience how much your state of mind matters in climbing. Some days you just don't feel right stepping up to the plate for that big lead, or grade leap. This time it was me wanting her to do this route, rather than it being one of her own ambitions. It was bound not to work, and I felt like a pushy football dad shouting from the side lines on a Sunday afternoon. Now though, having seconded it once, and then repeated it again rather effortlessly, I could see the change in her face as it was happening. "I reckon I could actually lead that, you know". The steely glint was there in her eyes. I said that we had nothing planned for Wednesday evening if she wanted to get back on it, but I knew where this was heading...

"Why can't I do it now?"

Moments later I was back at the ledge, rigging the belay. When Sarah joined me the difference was palpable. She was wearing her other face, and I knew that this time it would be oh so different. Effortlessly, she swung the arete, moving up to the vintage, rusty peg. A Friend 4 went into the break just underneath to back it up. Now the airy step left - shared undercut in the roof, bridge out, wallnut #2 in the thin seam to the left. A few easy moves up the hand crack; in goes an Alien and a large hex and a few other assorted bits. She's extremely fastidious with her gear placements on the best of days, and she's a bit unhappy with one of the cams in the crack. It sits nicely at the moment, but the crack flares inwards, and one yank of the rope might see it clatter uselessly to the bottom. The other pieces look good. Sinker hex a bit lower down, and another nut #2 in a crack to the left. Now, the crux. From a jam at the top of the crack, smear up high and reach for a couple of jugs over the overlap. No more gear until the top, or at least not until the climbing's all over. Deep breath, from both climber and belayer. "So, from here I'm supposed to just go for it?" she says rhetorically to herself. Moments later it's all over, and I see her feet disappearing over the top. She's over the moon. She looks over the edge, beaming.

"I just led E1!"

Sure did, and very confidently so.

As I get to the top we wrap up the ropes. It's only six o'clock, plenty of daylight left. I tentatively mention 'Swatter' (HVS 5a) which tops out just to the left. We've done this recently, and she found it a bit worrying in places. There's also the top pitch of 'The Split', a VS, topping out in the same area, so if we drop back down to the ledge we have options. Different people react differently to succeeding on a big personal objective. On the one hand you're still reeling from the adrenaline rush, feeling invincible, and on the other hand you also feel that you've done your bit and it's difficult to rekindle that fire within for another route. I fully expect to be leading out. We go down "to have a look", but as Sarah joins me on the ledge I know she's unstoppable. There's the normal banter about what gear goes where, what moves are hard or reachy, but I can tell that the outcome is already clear. Mantling the block she's soon stood on it fiddling in the good wires in the high pockets. The crux is a wide step out right, rocking over without much for your hands. It's a breeze for her, and she's rapidly motoring up the groove above. A few quick wires, and she's pulling over.

We celebrate with beers and a well deserved bite to eat in The Rising Sun in Woodcroft.

Oh, and to top it all, England won the fourth Ashes test with a day to spare, enforcing the follow-on which hasn't happened to Australia for nearly 200 tests. Here's to five days of rain in two weeks' time :)