4 Days in the Peak with Andy Knight

(Andy Knight, sporting a new DJ)

A friend of mine is joining the Army (Andy Knight) so prior to this we have been away for a few days climbing, in the Peak. It was originally supposed to be in the Lake District but I pulled out because I wasn't willing to carry full kit for 4 days in the mountains on my ankles and toe (mainly because I sprained my left ankle the week before bouldering). Instead we went to the Peak, despite a rather damp weather report.

I picked Andy up in Stoke-on-Trent at 12 on the Tuesday and we just set off, with little or no plan with regard to the climbing. Our only real plan was that we'd be camping at Wardlow Mires. This has got everything a good climbers campsite needs. It's cheap and cheerful, there is an excellent truckers cafe across the road (for those to lazy to cook their own breakfast) and it is in close proximity to the best pub in the Peak District... The Three Stags head. With this in mind Andy suggested Stanage for the afternoon and we soon found ourselves gearing up in the popular car park. As Andy had arrived on the train he'd brought one large sack with all his camping equipment in and a small sack for the climbing gear, and it was a pretty small sack (POD Granite). This meant that Andy appeared to be geared up for a fast and light attack on the crag, carrying only what he needed. He defiantly embraced the alpine mentality (and this carried on through the week with his subsequent purchases). I on the other hand found myself cramming some form of climbing gear into my big old and essentially British sack. 

Our first route was Robin Hood's Right Hand Buttress Direct going at HS 4b. I've been eyeing up this crackline for a few years, but never found anybody willing to second it. It looks like it should go at HVS and this is probably what puts people off, so I was pretty excited when Andy picked it as his first lead. Andy made an excellent lead of this route, which proved to be harder than it was grade (or at least more awkward to climb) and I thoroughly enjoyed seconding him up it. Topping out I realised that we'd not actually looked in the guidebook properly for the nearest walk-off (probably the first time we neglected to use all the information that the guidebook had to offer over the course of the week) and this some bumbling around ensued before we found something easy enough to descend.

It was really nice to be at Stanage mid week as there was hardly anyone else at the crag. I'm not an anti-social climber, but given the choice of a crowded crag or lonely isolated crag I know which one I'd prefer. The less crowded crags tend to be a little looser or greener any generally more interesting. Stanage is a much nicer place to climb on a quiet day.

I tied on for my lead, which was a VS 4c called Inverted V. It was pretty similar to the last route as I found out when I climbed it, but with a couple of harder sections. I really enjoyed being back on a decent grit route and had a whale of a time making the moves out along the end of the overhang I was to turn on the right. I snuggled down to belay in my little down jacket, something that was to prove a point of jealously for Andy and mean a trip to hitch'n'hike for us later on! Having descended Andy picked a VS 4c called Hargreaves Original Route (black slab) as his second lead. We had actually arrived at the crag for about 1500 (due in part to the first of many stops in Hitch'n'hike and breakfast at Andy's favourite cafe on the way there) so by now the sun was starting to stoop low in the sky. We could already see the valley's beneath us filling up with a thick fog.

After a difficult start Andy made short work of his route, but instead of climbing up the original line he followed a another VS 4c line which almost runs in parallel. I had thought about yelling up to him and telling him that he'd need to move right at some point, but in the back of my mind I knew that he had already seconded that route, so pushing on through new territory would have been more fun. I seconded this one, in my down jacket because the time had come a past for climbing in a t-shirt and arrived to a grinning Andy.

By now it was getting cold and I'm sure there is many a Alpinist and hardy mountaineer would have considered climbing until complete darkness... and thankfully (though hardly Alpinists and probably soft mountaineers) we decided to do the same and attempt to squeeze in a another route. I choose Zagrete (HS 4a) for my final lead of the day and it proved to be pretty stiff and a little artificial. That isn't to say that I didn't enjoy the climbing as I did, very much so. I topped out to the blankest section of stanage, in reference to places to find a decent belay, but managed to cobble something together. Sat there belaying I got to watch the sun drop behind the cloud on the horizon. I was left felling like I was sat in a bubble as all around me the fog was pouring off Stanage moor behind us and flowing into the valley beneath. I literally sat there and watched it fill up with fog as Andy's little red light on his helmet shone through, indicating his progress. 

By now it was dark so we did bail from the crag, back to the car and set off to Wardlow Mires. What had seemed like such a simple plan was to become vastly more complicated. Both the Pub and campsite were closed! (reading in the guidebook told us they only open weekends, especially in the winter months). A little stuck and at loss of what to do we trawled the guidebooks for information. There isn't actually that many places to camp in the Peak and after a few failed attempts to find somewhere we ended up near Birchen at the Eric Bryn Memorial Campsite (EBMC). This was of course after sampling the ales on offer in the Robin Hood (not quite the Three Stags Head, but never-the-less and excellent pub). The EBMC had no car access so all little inebriated we emptied out the climbing gear from the sacks and set off into the fog.

Morning was a miserable affair. After a cold nights sleep, a little bit drunk and on a full stomach I was awakened by the campsite owner asking for camping fees (which I happily paid). My current cleeping bags (clue there's two) work on the principal that if they're too warm, then I'll not want to leave them in the morning. The problem is is that I think I've gone too far the other way! We were then informed, still tent bound, that we were in the wrong field! In the thick fog the night before we'd eventually just given up and accepted that we probably were in the right place. In the end we had to move to the right field (for fear of horses munching on our tents) and Andy picked what turned out to be an excellent spot close to the wall and shetlered from the prevailing wind. The rest of our day was spent waiting for a break in the weather and so you can imagine where we ended up. It's the same place any climbers always end up when the weather is bad... gear shopping. Breakfast was had at Outside in Hathersage (strangly the poorest breakfast, in terms of quality, we had over the course of the week) and a few items purchased. I purchased some coffee, produced by (Grower's Cup). I like coffee, but my expresso pot is awkward to use and slow on the trangia and I've yet to justify spending £16 on a filter for my jetboil. As they didn't have any down jackets that Andy wanted (as he was embracing the “fast and light” European ethic) we went to Hitch'n'Hike to make more purchases. I think Andy walked away with a nice RAB microlight alpine (down jacket) and a trangia. I was glad he brought the trangia. I inherited mine and now it's something like 34 years old. It looks dented and battered but it still works, requires very little maintenance and as long as you prefer sitting round and talking while waiting for your food to cook (rather than yelling over the sound of some gas or petrol powered jet engine) it's a good stove. 

With a respite in the weather and a wholly unused copy of Peak Distict Limestone a plan was hatched to climb at Stoney for the day. We picked a 50 metre VS 4c called Aurora. The route is situated on windy ledge buttress but starts at the base of the crag on the right hand side. Andy took the first pitch up the rib and after some difficult climbing to start he was soon out of sight with the ropes flying through the belay device. At the yell of safe I geared up to head second him. It was cold so I was still in my jacket but sporting a rather fetching (or rather garish!) pair of lyrca leggings. We were climbing on limestone and I thought my bizarre attire would do credit to all the lycra clad rock-jocks up developed this cliff during the 70's and 80's, even if we were climbing a VS. We took up Andy's little climbing sack, in order to leave the shoes on the ledge for the walk down. 

Arriving at the belay I set off to find the start of my pitch. Above me soared a 20 metre high groove with a handjam width sized crack running up it back. I can hardly give a blow by blow account of my lead (because that would ruin if for anyone else heading up it) but I was excellent. It was one of my favourite routes I've ever actually climbed. There was excellent gear all the way but by the climbing was still complex and through provoking. The last section sets out left onto the arete for a wildly exposed finish up the blunt rib, whilst looking down on windy ledge and realising where you really are! Andy agreed with me about the climbing on the last pitch but being cold we didn't stick around. The decent was almost as much fun as the climbing. It started with an abseil off the top, back to the windy ledge. It gave me a real appreciation for how steep and overhanging the rock is there (the abseil is pretty much free hanging). The next problem was getting back to the shoes. Had we read the guidebook properly (second time we didn't abuse the guidebook for it's full worth) we have known that we couldn't just walk round. I'll admit that I knew it was supposed to be a VD to get you round the arete, but I didn't think it would be an actual VD! (as opposed to an exposed walk). Andy lead this, dispatching it quickly and I followed. It really was a lovely little climb and I'll hopefully go back there... but continue up the HVS instead! With the shoes in collected all that was left to do was coil the ropes and descend, which was good as it started to rain on the walk back to the car.

(Getting back to Windy Ledge)

(Andy setting out to deal with the VD back to the shoes)

We had a really nice evening that night. My mind was focused on simple things like “I need food”, “I need somewhere warm, preferably with beer” and then “I need bed, preferably warm” (ok, so I didn't get the last part). While I cooked stir-fry from scratch on my trangia, Andy built a sadly unsuccessful brazier. Apparently there is supposed to be no smoke without fire, but I can a sure you that this isn't always the case. On point of annoyance was that Andy's trangia didn't come with a kettle (surely the point of owning such a stove anyway) so you can guess where we stopped off on the next day... 

We climbed on Chee Tor (in Chee Dale) on the Thursday. I really should actually read the limsetone guide once in a while because there is a host of limestone climbing really quite close to Stoke. It'll beat going to the Roaches as well. We walk to the crag was very pretty starting at the old rainway station in Miller's Dale and walking down the railway lines and through the tunnels. When we descended off the old railway line the walk continued down into the limestone gorge itself and at one point along stepping stones at the side of the river. Here was had the third occasion where a proper read of the guidebook would have been a good idea. The path takes you on the left hand side of the river (facing down steam). Chee Tor itself is on the right and you can probably guess what happened. We found ourselves rewarming very cold and wet feet on the opposite side of the bank having crossed the river (whilst contemplating that we'd have to do the same again when we walked out). I'm almost glad we didn't read the guidebook properly otherwise we have probably either written off the idea of Chee Tor, or come armed with wellington boots and towels which would have taken away from the adventure.

(Crag access... and somewhere to hide from the rain)

(Stepping stones down the Chee Dale Valley)

(Andy bravely crossing the river... just to get to the crag)

Our route for the day was the Chee Tor Girdle, something Andy had suggested. It's 5 pitches of VS climbing graded 4b, 4b, 4a, 5a, 4c before you abseil back to the floor. Andy took the first pitch (also a route in it's own right called Dogone Groove). The rock was actually horribly cold a greasy and Andy won't mind me telling you he had to taken on the rope at least once. We I seconded it, it really threw me. Footholds that I would normally have no problem standing on saw my feet slipping off them without a moments warning. On more than a few occasions I was almost off. All in all I would probably say it was the hardest pitch that we had in the whole day and I arrived at Andy's belay in too minds about whether to continue. We did continue and were justly rewarded clean, dry rock with excellent friction and an abundance of good gear and tat to clip (a lot of the other routes finish at this break and therefore lower off here). My pitch was longer than Andy's but ended in a good belay and Andy soon followed. Andy's next pitch was a little bit of a forested romp for the first 10 metres, before he was back on to a sketchy more enjoyable (well for me anyway) traverse. We found quite a lot of loose rock as we climbed, considering that this is such a classic route.

At Andy's cramped belay we re-stacked the ropes for the crux pitch of the route, and also my lead. I've been running this over in my head since I've done it and I'm happy that there is still so much for me to learn. I ended up climbing for 25 metres till I arrived at what was described in the book as an “exciting hanging belay”. I should have carried on climbing for another 10 metres and actually done the crux of the route, but I stupidly misjudged it (and possibly cost us the route). I'd also ran out of runners (we I had one left) because I'd not been very economical with how I'd placed mine. There were too many protecting the easy sections and too few protecting the hard. Having said all that I had a great time climbing this pitch and managed to have a really neat and organised hanging belay. It wasn't until I'd brought the ropes in that I realised my mistake (belayed to early) but by there there wasn't much to be done. The Chee Tor Girdle is supposed to stay reasonably dry in all by heavy rain, but it had started raining and although the rock stays dry, the climbers clinging onto it and leaning out from the face don't. We made a good decision to bail off from my belay instead of pushing on and getting soaked through. We still had to ford the river (this time this with sensible aid of a stout plank) and walk back to the car.


This even was similar to the last apart from a small difference. It was raining. It rained on the walk back, it rain on the drive to the Robin Hood and it rain on the walk to the campsite. We both cooked in our own tents (Andy on his new trangia) while listening to said rain pattering down on the flysheet. Lying in my sleeping bag I could almost feel Andy's desire to head out into the rain and go to the pub (because he likes that sort of thing) so I sucked it and grabbed my waterproof. We were rewarded in our venture as the pub was warm and I could dry my gear by the fire, and of course there was nice beer. When it came to walking back at closing time there was a lull in the rain, so we got back nice and dry. 

I'd love to be able to say we woke up to excellent weather on our last day and headed off climbing again. Sadly this wasn't the case. As kind as the weather had been the night before, it wasn't exactly happy today. We still managed to get the tents down staying quite dry and set off to the Yonderman Cafe, (the truckers cafe in Wardlow Mires) as it was on the way home. Where as outside probably provided us with the worst of the breakfasts (as in I wouldn't pay to eat there) the Yonderman was the opposite. Good quality locally sourced meat and freshly cooked as opposed to something that's been sat on a hot plate slowly drying out. After breakfast it was then the last stretch and home.

Despite the weather and the cold I've had one of the best trips I think I've ever had to the Peak. Limestone is a severely neglected rock type in my climbing CV but I fear that this'll be changing soon enough. I was annoyed at my pitch on the Chee Tor Girdle, but it's a learning experience and in future I'll read the guidebook more and work out where each belay is (and the crux is if it mentions it) before I dive into a complicated route.

It seems that limestone is good from something, other than caving in.

(A proper climber's boot... a mess!)