When arranging today’s adventure, I asked Howsie what time he’d like to meet and then didn’t think anything of it. This saw us beat first light by a good twenty minutes, as we rolled into our destination. With a mere waxing crescent 5% full moon it was still dark, allowing us a glorious sight of the stars above. I have avoided this place for twelve weeks, as it probably was not the wisest place to climb during my rehab. However, as reported when I got out with Darby a few weeks back, I have been the green light to give myself a bit more of a test:
I’ve also had a couple of weeks of real rest from rock. That is other than the very enjoyable lower grade fun with Rod at the Crystal Palace a few days back, during and after which there were no tell-tale signs that anything was amiss. Considering the limited light, you may have thought I would offer the sharp end to the culprit who had dragged me out of bed half an hour earlier than necessary. Instead I racked up and jumped on a route that was familiar and sensible enough to be able to climb with a mix of feel and sight, completing it before first light:
Unlike the slow and steady mornings of England where you can savour the changing morning hues, which I relished just a week back, first light here rushes in. It takes 20-30 minutes to go from first light to sunrise, and it seems that it is far less to go from first light to plenty of light. This image is taken just over fifteen minutes, after the above one. Allowing Howsie to pick any line he fancied, without any excuses of not being able to see the holds. That said and being the first visit back here in three months, we had no intention of going too hard:
The dark start reminded us of the year we came here before work on a Friday nearly every week for the whole year, which was a decade back. While I am still on holiday, today was a before work climb for Howsie. As such we didn’t want to dilly-dally in-between lines, and kept up a good momentum. Dare I say a better pace that the building of the new bridge at the base of the dam. Work started in March 2025, nearly four years after the old bridge was closed. While they are making progress it looks like the full build will take well over a year:
There was one time today Howsie was not quite so decisive. Or should I fess up and say that I put doubt into his mind, as on this occasion I placed the crate between two lines. One he had mentioned and the other I not so subtly hinted he should have a crack at, which he was not sure if he was quite up to today. The crate was more towards the one I was encouraging him to jump on, which he did after some procrastinating. And with just a little egging on at the right time, as his arms were wavering, he kept going and managed a fine clean ascent:
Another reason for keeping moving, other than the timeline, was that from early on the pesky March Flies (Tabanidae) were out. Emerging from their slumber and ready to feed, just as we were about to hit our second route; fortunately still being a bit sluggish. Howsie had come here last week, later in the morning than today, and they were so bad that he bailed after just one route. He is not normally irked by them, and will be happy to put up with them long after I’m well and truly over their biting antics. So I knew that they must be bad this year:
As we kept moving, they remained a bit slow. This meant that while at times we were surrounded by a swarm of them, sometimes also called a cloud, business, or cluster, they didn’t affect our focus as we ticked one climb after another. And just like they didn’t bother us too much, my elbow was also behaving itself. Something that I was very happy about, as we hit eight fine lines. Finishing in good time we left ahead of schedule and before the time for feasting really began, when ‘it must be blood and must be fresh’:
Sandbagged 