It was a beautiful day at Stanage,
The sun was shining strong,
A day that was made for climbing,
You wanted it to go on and on.
Eight climbers were among us,
Though only five were fully paid up,
The rest were friend or family,
Plus one loquacious pup.
Simon set a cracking pace,
With Rosie ably following on,
Until he set foot on Inaccessible Crack,
When things went a little wrong.
But persistence was rewarded,
And so he reached the top,
Then Rosie declined to follow,
So Simon’s jaw did drop.
Again he had to climb it,
As second this time round,
It didn’t seem any easier,
To recover he needed a good sit down.
Shirley and Chris were united,
In their quest to tick some grit,
Chris led first on Tango Crack,
But Shirley did her bit.
On Uno Crack she showed her mettle,
Upon it she did twirl,
Leading it in style they say,
A genuine gritstone girl.
Another fine achievement,
Was recorded on this day,
Steve’s one thousandth on-sight,
Gave rise to much hoo-ray.
Celebrations were short lived however,
As potential disaster struck,
On Straight Crack Steve’s monster Camelot,
Became firmly stuck.
Mac worked hard to remove it,
How he did talk and shout,
But mere words were not enough,
To get that big cam out.
So Steve abbed down with a grimace and a frown,
And fiercely set about it,
What poor piece of kit,
Could resist the master gear remover.
Steve’s trials were not over,
He thought tinitus was setting in,
Because his ears were ringing ,
From an infernal din.
He soldiered on but by the end,
It looked like he’d been on a bender,
And going home his parting shot was,
I’m going to buy some ear defenders.
Of me and Phil what’s there to say,
Other than we enjoyed our climbing,
Five very good routes done in fair style,
But there was a problem with the timing.
At four o’clock the witching hour,
Appeared to forestall us,
But the sun was high and I wanted to try,
To continue to climb onwards.
So I said my good-byes to the cheery crew,
And consulted the guide to see what I could manage,
On-sighting is what appealed to me,
And there were several that shouldn’t cause too much damage.
Three buttresses I did visit,
All of them very fine,
But it does pay to tackle the routes carefully,
When climbing with no life-line.
Alone at High Neb’s end,
I decided to call it a day,
So I finished with tea and biscuits,
In the old time-honoured way.
Stanage rarely disappoints us,
No matter what the weather does,
So my parting shot I’ll write thus,
By ‘eck, that gritstone does you good.
With thanks to that fine Scots poet, William McGonagall for his inpiring writing style
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