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Girls go mad in Dartmoor

So there’s me, with 10 leads under my belt, one recent course and an odd assortment of gear mostly belonging to other people (pregnant indoor wall climbing partner has retired her gear for a while, giving me custody). There’s Sadie who once led a bit but has buggered up her knee and so is taking things gently. And there’s Alison, with great ambition to scale rock at the thin end of the rope but with a huge amount of fear. We decide to combine our ambitions and take a girls’ day out to Dewerstone in Dartmoor on a threatening late spring day. We want to get away from the patronage of the boys – to learn to be truly self-sufficient. Brave or foolish?
Alison and Sadie are subdued, having indulged in G and T’s in the back of Sadie’s van at the campsite the night before, followed by more in the pub - Their excuse being they needed fortifying after singularly failing to climb anything at Portland the day before (‘It was only a bloody 3’, Alison could be heard whining at frequent intervals).

Collective brain cells aren’t at their best the next morning, and it takes a while to find the place. Finally standing at the bottom of the crag, there’s the usual struggle with the impenetrable language of the route books - a problem we solve by consulting with the nearest climbers (so much for self-sufficiency).

We’re there because there’s a good range of lower grade climbs which aren’t horribly polished and, feeling confident, I offer my services to do the first lead of the day, choosing a chimney climb (Pinnacle Chimney.VD 3c), and then immediately change my mind when I see that the rain, that kept me awake all last night, has turned it into a slimy tunnel. Next door is a slightly more inviting Diff that goes directly through a holly tree (Holly Tree Wall). Never mind, I like tree climbing. It all goes smoothly and I even manage to work out how to turn the boulder at the top that’s as big as a smart car into an anchor. Well, no one dies.
Alison opts for a Diff ( Aqaq’s Slab) ) which I could walk up. In frantic pursuit of a gear placement she goes off route onto a severe, and manages not to cry. Sadie by this time has got bored and has gone for a walk. We assess Alison’s belay and proclaim it good…until a passing expert helpfully adds their insight. Apparently we have a lot to learn about equalising.

Undeterred, and with the reappearance of Sadie, we set our misguided sights on a multi pitch Diff (Mucky Gully). I volunteer for the second of the two pitches, knowing it’s trickier than the first and Alison doesn’t need scaring any more today. What follows turns into an epic of proportions that only the three of us will ever be able to appreciate. In the process we discover that between us we know a lot, but not always at the right time.

Alison is delighted by her efforts – a straightforward climb, and the belay that takes her half an hour to set up is perfect …well almost. She has a broad grin on her face as we join her on a narrow ledge surrounded by bits of gear. Sadie is last up and, as space is limited, spends the next hour with her nose to the crag, making terse and occasionally helpful comments about how the two ropes should be managed to allow me to take over the lead. For some reason this has to involve a lot of discussion, which allows a sneaky climber to come up from below and overtake us - much to our disgust (vocally expressed).

It starts to rain as we finally disentangle ropes, which is an encouragement to indulge in my bad habit of climbing solo - but who wants to stop and put in gear when it’s raining and there are two others to get up before we can get to somewhere dry? I know the answer: sensible and safe trad. climbers who’ve gone to the trouble to do a course and get the gear, and who know they need all the practice they can get. Bit like me really.

It took us over 2 hours to do this 2 pitch route. A lot was learnt in the process, so fulfilling the purpose of our trip. I learnt that if I’m really to understand the vital function and importance of gear placements, I will need to be well outside my comfort zone. The question ‘Brave or foolish?’ comes to mind again.

May 2009

Posted by fishinwater