Limestone:
A rock composed mostly of calcium carbonate, which is formed by
biological processes (the remains of fossilised seashells and
plankton which where alive many millions of years ago).
Something
I rarely do is write up a days climbing on the same day as the
climbing took place. It's getting closer and closer to winter and as
such the days are getting shorter. The temperature is also dropping
and as such I value the sunshine that little bit more. Maybe I just
notice the warmth it provides as it is so infrequent on some days but
today I've basked in it's lukewarm glow today, whilst sat on a ledge
on ravens buttress overlooking a quiet dry limestone valley. Either
way I'm home earlier than normal with more time on my hands.
My
day has been spent enjoying the pleasures of peak district limestone,
a somewhat neglected rock type in my opinion. I some ways though I'm
glad it gets such little traffic in comparison to the gritstone. I
went to stanage a couple of times last month and had a great time but
there was still loads of people. Even on a quiet day I still see the
worn footpaths leading to sandy eroded bays beneath each cliff. What
is nice to note is that I don't see that much litter at Stanage, even
at popular area. It isn't that I don't like people but I just prefer
the relative solitude you can have at a quiet crag. Crags of the
limestone variety don't seem to benefit from neglect but too much
traffic has an equally, if not polar effect. Neglect equals
overgrowth of vegetation and a reduction in the clearance of loose
rock. Each winter more is generated in small amounts, it add to the
problem of vegetation overgrowth. Too much traffic and we get the
reverse. Over climbed and polished routes. There needs to be a sweet
spot.
The
solitude was part of the reason that we headed to Ravendale, the
other being that I was reading up on the geology of the peak district
(again) and just got inspired. In the 10ish years I've been climbing
I have given precious little time to the lime. I don't know why this
is. I also joke that limestones are for caving. If I'm heading to the
peak district it'll be to climb gritstone. The reason is simple; I
love gritstone. Each route, each line, can be an intimate experience.
Feeling the change in grain size and sorting through your feet (even
if you don't realise it) looking for that perfect smear. Crimping on
the tiny sharp ripples in the rock, a remnant from the distance past
linked to the formation of this feature. Remembering the jam that is
causing the pain in your grazed and swollen hand; was it the cold
dark crack of high moorland crag, sharp and untouched where you could
feel each crystal biting in the skin of your hand or the straight
sided crack, young and fresh in it's life after being rudely exposed
before it's natural time, which is comfortable and inviting. The peak
district itself tells one story, but each crag tells its own. This
goes down to each climb and even a single problem. Man, I love grit.
So
we went to limestone. I text Finney describing the crag and he
confirmed. I drove up to his in awful weather. Huge bands of rain
kept sweeping across the motorway. This wasn't forecast and I paniced
(minor) but picked Finney up all the same. The plan was to try and
film as much of the day as possible and as such our journey to the
crag is well documented from van to parking and then to the base of
the cliff, crossing a dry river (bedded with limestone) on a set of
stepping stones. I didn't take a picture of the crag, despite all the
cameras so I'll describe it instead. It stands out from the valley
side as a series of cliffs, the middle of which is two tiered in the
shape of a prow of rock heavily grooved in it's upper section This
was Ravens Buttress. North, up valley the cliffs shorten and are
separated by bands or broken rock and vegetation. Ravens Buttress
right flank had blanker walls in the upper section and a series of
shallow discontinuous grooves with small overhangs above a shallow
break, and a small yew tree on the terrace, somewhat broken and thin
this side. The left was more grooved, deeply in it's upper section
with overhands and corners. The actual middle had a large v groove
and a vegetated slab on it's one side, with steeper grooves to the
left. You could say the crag was pretty groovy.
We
plumbed for Mealystopheles, not because of the name (which I'm sure I
pronounce wrong) but because of the line and the grade. We both liked
the like and it looked like it's grade, if that in any way makes
sense. I lead the first pitch. It was hard. The rock was a little
suspect and I have a reasonable and understandable fear of loose
rock. Still it was not a tottering jenga tower but something that
meant I had to check: every. Single. Hold. As such the climbing was a
really involved process as I was looking everywhere. My feet were a
real issue. I just didn't know what I could get away with on this
rock type. What would stick and where it was. I felt pushed out away
from the rock but it's steepness while at the same time drawn in and
surrounded in the groove. About half way up after a series of small
grimps but quite gymnastic climbing with good holds spaced far apart.
As I said, it was engaging which probably lead me to drop my medium
wires half way up. This was no problem. I had a tonne of gear on me
so carried on but my attidtude subtly changed and I was move careful
and placed what ever gear I could fit.
The
ledge was a fantastic belay. My first was an alcove preached slightly
above the terrace and gave one quite a commanding position from which
to view the valley (it's got and excellent echo as well). It was cold
and gloomy in the morning shade but comfy. My second was in the sun,
on the right wall. As such the terrace was short and my belay was
compact. The real pleasure was when Andy shouted safe and I could lie
out of the grass ledge just next to me, lacking my confinement to
stay within the sensible distance of the anchor. I lay in the sun and
shivered from the occasional cold breeze. Every experience is worth
remembering.
Finney's
lead took up up the slab and then into a short vegetated groove
before traversing diagonally upwards to finish up the final deep
groove. He couldn't get his head round the rope from some reason. Not
that he clipped everything wrong but that he didn't accept he'd
clipped them fine. It seemed to worry him on route. We also had a
laugh when he topped out yelling down “Chink, where's the belay?”.
He did find something in the end. When I seconded the route I was
impressed not only by the climbing, which was much more exposed and
on smaller hold than the first pitch but also by his route finding.
He took the wrong line in the guide book. The vegetated groove was
his own addition. It avoided 4 metre of very loose rock. The
dangerous kind that stands up to a few blows but not a weighted tug.
I didn't come off when I follow Finney. I should have gone route but
at the time it just seemed part of the route. I did pull off a large
rock which I had to throw off. I hit the first pitch in the process,
something I felt bad about. I cleaned up the mess and then with a
tight rope and some sturdy ivy I was out of danger. And into the
exposed finish. Wow. What a pitch. It was Mealystopheles VS 5a, 4c.
Purple
Haze was our next route. This looked more intimidating. Round on the
right wall taking a line through an overhanging groove above the
shallow break. My first lead took me into the right corner, not where
I wanted to be and I scuttled back retrieving and replacing gear. My
false start might have cost me some time but it was much harder than
I was expecting so I now approached the groove with caution. The
climbing was gymnastic with layaways in tiny cracks converting to
stemming on then edge of the groove. Heels, jamming and eventually a
great rock over to bridge the groove and get over the over hang. It
wasn't over and I stripped dead ivy from slabbier grooves.
Finney
loved it and waxed lyrical from ages at the belay. His lead took him
up an wide crack, amusingly climbed as he stepped his scrawny leg
inside it to climb up on jammed rocks. A short battle with a yew tree
cost Finney some serious rope drag, despite his victory and then the
headwall above. This pitch earned its abjective grade. The climbing
was sustained on steep rock acrossing a broad headwall to... a short
groove. He took his time and rightly so. It must have been great to
have been on that pitch on the lead. My experience was similar. After
my laze in sun I climbed the groove (without putting my leg in) acted
as reinforcement battle with the tree and freed the ropes before
stopping and looking up at Finney peaking over this flat steep wall.
It was impressive. Little clusters of gear long sections of climbing.
It was steep face climbing with the occasional rest. After I'd
seconded enjoying the tether of safety guiding me Finney told me how
he'd just climbed really slowly, in short moves with pauses while he
decided on the next move and just psyched himself up that he could do
it. It worked, clearly. It was Purple Haze E1 5b, 5a.
And
that was it. The sun had gone in and we were cold. Sometimes you
don't need to push it and get another climb in, coming down in
darkness. We left happy. We'd taken so much away from the days
climbing. It had been different, unusual and challenging. The rock
itself was an unknown. I kept moving for holds only to find the
crimp, that I knew would be there, was no where to be found. I lacked
that intimate knowledge that'd driven my love of gritstone. I climbed
carefully tortoise like but slowly I began to read the rock. Things
started to make sense. Each groove and each line was presenting a
story. And that is where it ended, because I don't know enough
limestone to compare it too. I've not climbed on it. I've neglected
it, Ignored and pushed it aside in pursuit of pot noodle climbing and
alpine starts.
But
it won't any more. I have climbed on limestone in the past and this
day has brought back so many memories. Great days out with old
friends, Esoteric experiences and avoiding the rain and climbing the
tower of babel one sunday afternoon. I love gritstone but the peak is
more than just one rock type.