…Impact…

Oh god! Has it really been 6 months since I posted? That’s a bit shit. A lot has happened though. My first trip to Gogarth where I experienced my fair share of the Gogarth Grip! A trip to Arran in September with my home-boy Dave was mind blowing. I think this picture sums up why I love the place so much:

This belay was just perfect. The smooth granite slab below me; the looming roof above me and that beautifully shaped valley to my right with a view forever out onto the sea.

With the Christmas work rush (and I mean rush!) at University finished it was time for a brief chizzle before going home and setting upon some revision. Cliff Shasby, sensible man that he is, is very flexible with time at the moment and so he was more than keen for a couple of days in the Peak District. We decided to hit Froggatt on the first day and I met him just out of the Outside cafe in Hathersage.

Valkyrie was a dream. Well, not really the first pitch but my pitch was nice although a little short. We abseiled off the pinnacle and searched the guidebook for what was next. Cliff fancied “Beech Nut” a reputedly short but savage crack on the far right of the crag given E1. We headed over and the route was dispatched in fine style, much easier than that first crack of Valkyrie!

My turn and I had a toss up between Chequer’s Crack and Stiff Cheese. Both technically 5c but with CC being HVS and SC being E2. I fancied pushing myself and had found Beech Nut to be fairly straightforward so I set about my attempt on the line.

Stiff Cheese takes a short but steep and thin crack. This is only a mere 20 feet high before it joins a large groove which is scrambled up to the top with ease. Oddly it was less focused on fingerlocks and was more a layback effort which suited me just fine. Climbed up placed a bomber wire and inspected the moves above. Climbed down, rested. Up again and another bomber wire just before the crux.

The sequence of moves on the climb is fairly obvious from the ground so during my last rest I had a good ponder about the moves and think I had it all worked out. Simple climbing up to a small overlap, layaway off an undercut crimp on the overlap and stretch up with the left to a sloping looking hold. Don’t stay long as it looks bad. Right hand up to a similar triangular slot which looked much better before firing up to the top using a few holds which looked pretty reasonable. Having done the route next door I knew the topout into the groove was not going to be as positive but I was just going to have to figure it out some how. That gears going nowhere anyway and it’s well within range of the floor even with rope stretch.

Right then. On with it! Cleaning my shoes one last time I set out upon the climb. What I believed to have been the crux went well and the two triangular slots were both really good holds which was a pleasant surprise. The mantel getting into the groove was proving to be the real difficulty and as I stared at the top I knew I couldn’t stay and think for long on these holds. I ended up making a decision to really throw one on and jump for the top.

“Watch me, Cliff. I’m going for it”

Jump.

Hand hits the top.

It really is quite slopey.

Peel away.

Fall.

Down down down.

Wait for that feeling as the rope takes your weight and you hit the wall.

Twang! What’s that?! SHIT! The gear’s fucking ripped! That fucking bomber fucking nut has fucking ripped on me. Shit shit shit shit sh….

CRUNCH! Impact. Feet and legs crumple and I hit a boulder at the bottom of the route hip down.

AAARRRRGGHHHHH!!!!!!! SHIIIIIIIIT!!!

I screamed and screamed and screamed for what seemed like an age. And this wasn’t just your normal cry of frustration and annoyance that usually comes with failing on a route. This was a scream. Fueled by pain. Powered by shock. Driven by pure fear.

I remember seeing Cliff’s face a mask of fright, shock and panic as he tried to remember his first aid from his days as a snowboarding instructor. Then some folks came running round the corner to see what had happened. I sat where I had fallen. Cross legged next to that accursed rock with the rope snaking away from me, the traitorous Black Diamond Stopper still clipped to it.

The following events are hazy but after a few minutes I pulled myself together and calmed down. I remember the relief as I wiggled my toes and fingers and felt the sensation as they were pressed. I remember the pain as I tried to move my leg, it was useless, I just couldn’t bear to straighten it out.

Cliff, Stu, Tom and Ri had done all they could for me and I can’t thank them enough for their quick and thoughtful actions. Safely shrouded from the cold in assorted belay jackets we discussed the plan. I couldn’t move and we had an hour of light left so it became obvious that we needed to call the cavalry and Mountain Rescue teams from Edale and Buxton were as quick as ever to arrive on scene along with Les, a paramedic.

I won’t bore you with the details of the rescue but I did not need to ride in the big yellow taxi in the sky which was fortunate. I also remember being given a combination of morphine and Nitrous Oxide which made me “merry” to say the least and took away the pain. I was stretchered off to the ambulance and taken to Sheffield Northern General hospital.

That’s about all I have to say about what happened at the crag. I do remember a few of the names of the 18 people who helped me – these comprising of 12 Mountain Rescue team members from Buxton and Edale, 4 climbers at the crag (including Cliff) and two paramedics. The sheer force of Nitrous Oxide makes my memory a little hazy but I will try and thank as many of these people by name as I can.

Cliff, Stu, Tom, Ri – Thank you all for the support you gave me both during the accident and in the following days. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. I have thanked those of you who I have contact details for over the phone. If I haven’t spoken to you yet please get in touch.
I should also thank my other friends and relatives who have offered their support and best wishes in the days since the accident. It really is a great feeling to have such a group of friends who are so concerned about me.

The paramedics – Excellent folks. I’m afraid I don’t remember the drivers name but Les, who helped at the crag, was very professional and arrived very quickly. Thanks for help!

The Mountain Rescue teams. I am forever indebted to Matt, Caroline, Ian, Miles and all the others who turned out to help me. I was told later that I had lost an “impressive” amount of blood internally and without the fast and efficient actions of these guys I guess things could have gone a lot worse for me. What’s more is that they volunteer for this work and the Mountain Rescue service is run entirely on charitable donations. I’m sure the walkers and climbers reading this always pop a bit of money into an MRT collection box when they see one but if you’re glad I’m still here and would like to make a special donation then information on doing so can be found Here and Here. The MR is an incredibly worthy cause and it speaks wonderful things of the characters of those involved that they give up their free time to help those in need. Thank you all.