Double Crush!

One of the great things about epic sieges is that you never have to ask "where shall we climb today?". Back from France, back to Malham. The unseasonal weather had worked its charm and the cove, which we left sulking under a coat of black is pristine again. 

Plans to climb on saturday are quickly shelved. The mercury rises to record heights, and paint peels from fences. This is not the day to be sat at the focus of an 80-m wide reflector. Instead we visit Jenny and Bruno and their new arrival Sam, who is the definition of adorable; lively and with a wide range of interesting facial expressions. Cafes and gentle walks are a perfect match for the 30-degree heat. In the evening we drive to Malham and have dinner in the Listers, where we encounter some fools who tried to climb, sitting in the shade and peeling their blistered skin.

Sunday brings rain, warm air and cloying humidity. Not perfect sending temps. On my first dog up Bat Route it is quite obvious that things are against me: conditions are gash; my new shoes feel clumpy and don't work in the crucial heel-hook. Worst of all, my hurty elbow has acquired a new trick, and my left bicep appears to have gone to sleep. It simply won't recruit, and seems to have no power. This is disappointing because if there's one thing you want on a roof full of undercuts, it's some guns to brag about.

Jules is looking in better shape on Predator. In fact I've never seen her so strong on it. It's still a bit wet, and she's carrying a towel up with her to dry footholds on redpoint, but it's game on I'd say. And so we start. 

Round 1

I fall off the roof; something I haven't done for ages. Jules cruises to the crux, but fails to get through it. 

Round 2

I fall off the roof again. Biceps would clearly be of some use here. Jules gets through crux but then gets muddled up and falls getting her feet up.

Round 3

I'm through the roof! God knows how, but still. My mum-made kneepads work like a dream and I get loads back in the knee bars. Which is a good job, because the runout above is horrendous; I smear and stab and grease my way through the pinches; I've never come so close to taking the lob. This is proving to be a massive fight; obviously I've got no chance. But here's something funny; I'm not pumped. All that French grade chasing must have done something for my fitness and I leave the rest feeling good. In fact, I fully crush my way through the crispy headwall and onto the French 6b finish. It's in the bag! Except....

On the walk in, Jules asked me if my route stayed dry in the rain. "Of course", I answered. I should have thought about that a bit more. The top wall is soaked. Naturally, I keep my cool, which is to say I wobble and scream my way to the ledge. My screams of "Oh christ! It's so wet!" cause much mirth around the cove but it's done. Finis. Nothing to do but lower off and enjoy the exposure one last time.

Back down to earth and I am ecstatic. But, poor Jules. How many more people must she see complete their projects before she nails hers? She congratulates me, of course, but the disappointment and sadness shows through, and I feel crushed. She deserves it so much more; why did it have to be me to tick today?

She still has a chance though; her third red point sees her through the crux again, and in cruise control this time. She looks strong and composed and she falls from the moves at the first chain again. No! How can she do this? No-one falls there. Certainly not twice. Certainly not three times! How can she be so cheated? Obviously, at this point Jules is pretty angry. It's not helped by the fact that the damp is coming through; holds on the start are wet. The top tufas are slimy. Will she get another chance this year? Amid all this pressure, she dusts herself down, and sets off for

Round 4

Shaky and wheel-spinning through the start. A bad sign. Leaving the half-height rest she looks good but stalls on the traverse; feet shaky and a few wild slaps. I hold my breath. She makes it, and powers through the crux and onto the easier headwall. Surely this time? You can't drop it from here four times, can you? I hold my breath. She does not; aggression and power screams pouring down the wall. She's there! Across from the first belay and into a monster rest; one bolt from the chains. The cove is crushed into silence. I glance across at Keefe and raise my hands in silent prayer. Aeons pass. She sets off and cruises to the chain. Clip. Silence. I think she's a bit confused by what just happened. Then it hits, and her face is split by a grin of pure joy. 

Double Crush! Chapeau Team Littlefair! It goes without saying that we celebrate with a massive McDonald's blowout. Today I feel a little queasy. But dead chuffed.