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The sleep has barely cleared from our eyes to relate the tale of
our trip this weekend to Froggatt in the Peak of Derbyshire. Cross
wind and wave we did on Friday night, arriving a bit battered to
Holyhead, and some of us our stomachs lighter. Paddy Clarke now
knows what the word "yaw" means. Two carloads : Derek, Claudia,
Kev Nash and Eoin in Carole's car; me, Paddy Davey, and Viv in Paddy
Clarke's car.

Paddy took off at pace with us arriving first at the climbers club
hut at Froggatt - the R. O. Downes memorial hut. The hut was empty,
and unfortunately Eoin had the key... an hour later the others arrive.
Quickly to sleep, climbing to be done in the morn...
The Froggatt gritsone edge is only a short walk up the hill from
the climbers club hut, which is where we headed after much faffing
in the morning. It was a clear day, if slightly damp underfoot,
and on finding the crag the rock looked in ample condition for climbing...
rack up, flake rope and... rain !!! Shite. Fortunately we were near
a convenient cave for shelter, where we were soon joined by some
English climbers up from London for the weekend.

The rain soon stopped and we emerged form our cave to examine the
scene. Much muttering about sun and wind and drying. Nothing to
be done but climb then. Eoin "man-of-action" Lawless first into
the fray with a VS, "Holly Grove", which thankfully lacked holly.
I did my usual humming and hawing and then decided to tackle the
adjacent VS, "Hawk's Nest Crack", apparently a "good first VS" according
to the guidebook. That should do then ! Up with determination and
higher and farther into the welcoming crack. The first of many sore
jams... oops, need some finger tape, so back down. Back up again,
lash the gear, first effort at crux... jam, pain!, next jam, pain!,
shit, my foot's stuck... take!! Expletive time. Derek, my belayer,
"John, there's children around". Oops. Back on again, same moves,
foot stuck again, take!!! "Jesus Christ". Below I witness much guffawwing
from Claudia and Viv, and I lose it. "It's not funny, etc, etc."
John takes seriously his being taken seriously. Apparently after
I had invoked the Lord Jesus and all the heavenly host, the girls
had heard this passing child say to his mother "who's Jesus Christ?",
hence their mirth. Anyway, third time lucky and I managed to remove
my foot at the crux move, and onwards to the top. A great route,
worth the 3 stars in the book. Kev and Eoin also lead this later
on, with added obligatory grunting, though without the colourful
use of language...
Meanwhile others were in various states of lead... Paddy Clarke
lead "Diamond Crack", a nice HS and a good intro to jamming, Eoin
lead another VS (which the new guidebook has down as HVS) called
"Broken Crack", which Kev also lead and several people seconded,
including Derek in the dark with his head torch. Claudia and Viv
epic-ed out on a Severe, "Grey Slab", the top of which is no slab
at all but a dirty big body width crack. Eoin lead it in the rain
on Sunday, an elegant site to behold ! Someone (Carole, Derek ?)
also lead "Heather Wall", Severe, which is supposed to have been
pretty good. I finished the day with a lead of the lovely "Sunset
Crack", given as VS in one book, but only really HS. Derek also
lead it, before wandering off with his head torch...

We were all about done, and a good day was had despite the early
shower. Down to the nearest pub, "The Chequers Inn", which was lovely
but was really a bit posh for us smelly climber types. Myself and
Paddy Clarke decided to forego cooking in the hut and had the Duck,
which was excellent. Another pint and back to the hut. The others
were having their nosh, yet another fine creation apparently, and
onwards to another pub, "The Grouse Inn", for some fine ale to finish
off the night...
... many hours later: Snore, snore, THUMP. Paddy Clarke "Viv, it's
not me, it's John!". Snore, snore, THUMP, THUMP...
Sunday, and Kev wakes the wrong Paddy. At any rate, Paddy Clarke
is dispatched for milk. Tea, toast, and off to the crag again. A
bit drizzly, and the rock a bit mingin'. I putatively try a jam
in a crack and my hand slides effortlessy out. Not today then. Nothing's
stopping Eoin though, big wet dirty cracks are his sort of thing,
if you get my meaning. Off he yomps up a quick four easy leads as
the rest of us consider the thickening drizzle. Paddy Clarke gets
in on the whole "wet is good" vibe and leads "Sunset Crack".
Pub lunch sounds like a great idea, and off we head via a local
climbing shop. Some nice gear, and a sale, but I manfully resist
the tempation. Paddy Clarke bought a nice blue jacket, which you
will all soon see no doubt. Us in the Clarke car are getting the
earlier ferry home, the others getting the slow boat late in the
middle of the night. After lunch, we say our goodbyes, as the others
head into Sheffield in search of a climbing wall, and we head west
to Wales and the sea.
Somewhere in North Wales, Paddy Davey gets concerned about the
big red fuel light being on. "We'll be grand, says Paddy Clarke".
Some miles later, and more discontent from the back seat. Meanwhile,
Paddy C suffers a sugar crash and demands caffeine and sugar. We
somehow track down the nearest coffee machine to be in the A+E room
of a hospital !! No injuries, but back on the road to the ferry,
red fuel light still on. More concern, even Paddy C. "Let's count
up our change, only small stuff", says Paddy. So, we gather 2.82
in 10s, 20s, 50s and coppers. Grand, Paddy pulls into a petrol station,
and proceeds to fill the tank with exactly 2.82 worth of petrol.
We're sorted !! Onwards to the ferry, and a much smoother crossing
than on Friday night. Paddy Davey and I try to teach Viv and Paddy
C how to play bridge, and before you know it we're back in Dublin,
and settling into our comfy beds wondering where in North Wales
the others are at this stage...
A fine weekend. Gritstone is great, and well worth a visit. A return
journey before the summer is definitely in order...
"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers".
John.



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