By Mick Enwright - June 2005
Hi Folks
Before any of the scurrilous rumours or downright untruths assail your collective delicate ears, what follows is the plain unvarnished truth......Pay no heed to any other reports of the incident!!!!
Martin S and I set off at some unearthly hour on Thursday 24th heading for the Great Beyond ... well Hathersage for starters, where we planned to meet up with Norman at Outside...I have to admit that leaving early does have it's merits, for we arrived after a trouble free...speed observed (Hmmm) journey, arriving at 09.55 outside Outside, and after the usual round of gearfondling, tea drinking, and generally lusting after kit we didn't really want, couldn't really afford, etc. (recognise yourselves, anyone)??? set off for "popular end" of Stanage, and spent a nice productive day soloing V Diffs, climbing, leading, seconding and generally enjoying the scenery, before setting off for Castleton YHA.
There seemed to be a mite of confusion on the part of the reception staff on our arrival, as to who was bunking with whom and where, which was eventually sorted out. So then it was off to the "self catering kitchen" to prepare our respective tucker, which in all cases was accompanied by various beverages, having seen off some small Stellas, a couple of very nice bottles of red, and taking up later, Tony's offer to help lower the contents of his wine box, 'twas all in all, a merry evening.
Now being of a less robust constitution that in earlier days, I decided to leave the others to their wines, jokes and general frivolity and went off to bed, to some of the most wonderful sleep I'd had in a while, until summoned in the early hours by Martin practising his own particular "Coughing for Britain" routine, which after a while he'd perfected, and we all finally settled until some unearthly hour, when aroused again by Tony, bearing gifts of hot tea (Sorry, that should be roused, but then, who knows what other effects tea can have).
After a hearty breakfast, and the most minimal faffing (largely by me) leaving just on 9.a.m. we set off for The Roaches, parked up, met Caroline G, geared up and set off for Upper Tier, where we off-loaded the rucksacks, and strolled in a leisurely fashion along the face, checking out potential routes, and waiting for the rock to dry. Norman and I set off to do Maud's Garden for starters, which although still wet and somewhat green was a "pussycat" of a climb, which we enjoyed immensely. The others, going off to do their thing. Ask Martin S sometime about Jeffcoat's Chimney; he does have a descriptive turn of phrase.
Other climbs came and went and then I mentioned to Norman that there were 3 or so climbs just across the wall left of "Right Route" which seemed to be worth a look, which for me was all they were, I just lost any bottle, retreating in ignominious fashion, and apologising to Norman who happily was quite relaxed about the whole sorry business...
Then it was time for lunch. Which came and went, With Mike B and Caroline setting up to do "Pedestal Route", Tony R and Martin setting up to do "Right Route" and Norman and myself looking lovingly at a climb which I could not put a label to, just to the right of "Right Route" which had my name on it. I went up had a look at it, perching on a fine thin ledge without too much difficulty, comfortable and satisfied that it was do-able, came down re-checked the gear, tied in and set off once again, don't know at this stage why it didn't seem quite the same, and tried to alter my stance, but suddenly I was plummeting all of 3 feet to the ground, where rather unfortunately somebody had left this flat rock upon which the front half of my right foot landed (ouch)!
Apparently on landing one footed I was heard to yelp rather loudly, and mutter in unseemly fashion. "Oh dear" I said "I think I have hurt my foot" (or something similar), all the time fighting off the sudden feeling of faintness and nausea. Willing hands helped me down, somebody finding a bivi-bag to lay me on, and folks on hand to generally render such help as might be needed. Including a guy from the local mountain rescue team offering to turn out his group if needed be. Could I ever live that down?
Opinion was however that in fact it might have just been a bad sprain, with Kearton applying bandages and Ibuprofen, and generally making me comfy. Apparently there are 'photos ...
Everybody was able to finish his or her climbs (Tony R leading an absolutely stonking good "Right Route" which I could watch from my resting place)
Some years ago I was more than a little derisory of walking poles, but had, as I got that little bit older, come to appreciate their merits and none more so than this day! Martin set out the plan of action to get me off the hill, fashioning for starters a carry seat from my walking poles and some tat. Sending Kearton off to recce the best way down, avoiding those wonderful stairs!!!.... They then took all of the gear back to the cars, while Caroline stayed to mop my fevered brow and keep me amused 'til the lads returned.
The next bit was something of a tour de force, with various methods of carrying and lifting a body across some pretty rough ground (again, photos exist) to get me back to the road.
Norman then ferried me off to Buxton minor injuries dept, where after checking and X-raying, they found I had indeed broken a bone, provided me with a soft cast and picks to take to the fracture clinic.
I know why it is that I joined the IMC. What a swell group of guys and gals you all are! Special thanks to Martin, Tony R, Norman, Mike B, Caroline, Adrian and Kearton for all of their combined efforts to get me safely off the hill. It was no picnic!
Prognosis. Likely to be in plaster 4 to 6 weeks, will I dance again? I doubt it - couldn't dance before. Will I climb? You bet I damn well will !!!! And I can't complain, having climbed for about 12 years without mishap. So take care out there folks, and thanks once again to all thosementioned above.
Zebedee
