Having wanted to try scrambling up a rock, using just my finger tips and toes, whilst entrusting my life to a length of rope for a while now, I was at last given the perfect opportunity when we had a visit from our daughters, one daughter’s boyfriend and the other daughter’s friend. (As this is usually a group activity I had to wait for a number of like minded people who also wanted to have a go at putting their trust in that same length of rope!). We even managed to persuade a couple of our guests to also join us.

Climbing session booked, we piled into the mini bus of the person who was going to be our instructor and hopefully bring us back in one piece! As we set off up the mountain with nervous anticipation, the atmosphere was one of tense excitement of not being quite sure what we had let our selves into. However, the tension soon eased when, the bus having came to a halt we could see a small rock face of no more than about 15 metres in height before us. I for one gave a silent sigh of relief as I realised I wouldn’t be expected to scale something akin to the north face of Everest on my first outing!
 

Having reached the ground, and in the process of releasing himself from the harness and rope, he asks ‘who would like to try first’? At this point it was a classic case of most people looking completely vacant (which usually sets in due to the panic of not wanting to be the first lamb to the slaughter) and a lot of mumbling of ‘I think so and so should go first’. First person sorted (brave lad), harness and safety helmet donned, he is then secured to the rope. Having been told how to make his way safely up the rock face, he finds his first hand and foot hold and up he goes, and goes, and goes. He has done this before on numerous occasions, on rocks a lot bigger and steeper than this one and makes it looks so easy. Not an easy person to follow and make it look as graceful!!! Perhaps we shouldn’t have made him go first! As he lowers himself down in an abseiling fashion, I’m now starting to think to myself that, that looks like great fun, and I cant wait to get to that point.

Damn, My turn!! Having put on the harness, helmet and been secured to the rope, I stand at the bottom of the rock, looking up and it suddenly doesn’t look so easy! Knees starting to tremble I find my first hand and foot hold and ease myself off the ground. Half way up and those hand holds and foot holds I was telling my daughter to reach for, suddenly look miniscule and too small for even an ant to be able to balance on! From down below I’m getting a taste of my own medicine, and being told ‘a little further to your right. There’s a good hand hold just above your head’. All I can see is the area immediately in-front of my face and a foot either side. To see the ledges they are talking about I would need to lean out slightly, and instinct tells me, you stay as close to that rock as possible!

Somehow I manage to reach the overhang which is just about half a metre from the top, and there I stay for the next 10 minutes! That final push that’s needed to get past this stupid overhang just will not happen. The hand hold I must get to is just out of sight over the lip of the overhang and I only have every ones word it is really there! Desperately trying to find a decent grip for my feet that will allow me push myself up just a couple more inches, my fingers are starting to feel like they will fall off because I’m gripping with them so tightly, and from below I’m hearing ‘you have to just give a quick push with your feet and then you will reach a decent hand hold just over the lip’. Teeth clenched and mumbling to myself ‘its ok for them to say you have to JUST do this JUST do that’. This is my life in the balance and they want me to JUST jump’!!! Now my toes are starting to get cramp from clenching them too hard. I have to make a decision! Do I give that quick push and hope my fingers find that hand hold that they keep assuring me is there, and if I don’t find it will the rope really hold me? (Cant decide which is worse, the thought of being 15 metres above the ground and making a leap or the not knowing if the rope really will stop me falling)! Or do I give in gracefully admit defeat and lower myself down? After a few more agonising minutes of trying to pluck up the courage to make that final push, fingers and toes by now really feeling the strain I do indeed admit defeat and abseil down to the safety of terra firma, loving every second of this part.

Having failed to reach the very top, I was still none the less happy at having tried. I enjoyed the experience and will try again another time. But, next time knowing that the rope will indeed stop me from falling, I may even make that final leap and find that elusive hand hold!!