One in the Eye for Bandit Country

I have now discovered what Mark's huge bouldering mat is really for: it is an improvised stretcher upon which your remains may lie and so be dragged away from the crag. Its major flaw is that it looks so reassuring and encourages you to climb far too high above it. "What is the last thing to go through a boulderer's mind when he hits his mat?" His ankles, of course.

One day at the beginning of November, around lunchtime, both Mark and I decided independently that the weather was far too good for work: Stone Farm Rocks was the place to be. On our arrival, the dog thought Christmas had come early and lost the plot completely chasing rabbits in the undergrowth.

The first task was to give some guidance on rope grooves and long slings to a portly gentleman, who was guarding some villainous little bastards being released into the community. The second task was to boulder up to the top of the pinnacle and then give one of the aforementioned little bastards a piece of my mind about carving his initials on the top, followed by the 'no more Mr Nice Guy' routine to the portly gentleman. To his credit, he fixed the slings and threatened the little bastards with some cruel and unusual punishment of his own invention.

Having done our bit to protect the community, we then set about the serious business of testing our confidence in the massive mat. "Big it up for the mat massive", or something, I think they say these days.

Shirts off time, in November. Not a cloud in the sky. I have no idea what we climbed, except lots and lots, and not a rope in sight and higher and harder than we should have. It was the weather we should have had when we went to the Peak, but didn't. The friction was superb – I never thought that I would say that about sandstone. The mat didn't really get tested either, but seeing a big black hole to land on is rather reassuring, even if your chances of actually hitting it are less than even.

The dog was knackered. We mopped up the blood oozing from his undercarriage (fighting with barbed wire fences again probably) and went home well pleased with ourselves. Result! One in the eye for Bandit Country!

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