Tony on the crux of the layback corner at the right end of the cliff, 5 (HVS 5a)
So at this point I'm still stuck at the top of the cliff, sneezing madly, ropes jammed below me. Whilst Tony is grimacing and gritting is teeth, lying on the floor 30 odd metres down and across from me with his ankle starting to swell. The US military term of "clusterfuck" was, without a doubt, the best description of the situation. The day was not going smoothly.
High Def Anni.
The charlie foxtrot situation was eventually resolved by me fixing and abbing down my ropes some way, to a point where I could shuffle across and un-jam the ropes myself. I then built a belay at this point, and Anni seconded on the now free ropes, removing all the runners under the roof, before getting to my belay and lowering off from there. I then stripped the belay and abbed on down to the ground. Now all reunited on terra firma, calling a lunch break seemed the best option. Tony could walk with some difficulty so we hobbled back to our bags. He sat out the rest afternoon taking some pics. Anni and I did a few more routes but my heart at least wasn't in it. Driving home Tony decided he better go to hospital to have the ankle checked out properly. Bummer. Get well soon dude.
But the weather was great, the sun burnt my neck, cuckoos and blackbirds were singing, and lizards skittered through the dry leaves on the forest floor whilst fat, ugly spiders wandered up the granite putting our attempts to shame. And you've got be thankful for that.