The leaves of Chatsworth lie thick on the ground

Howard mailed. Would I like to go climbing on the 15th of November? Yes, I would. So, only slightly delayed by a fallen tree at Madingley, he and Louise turned up at 7:30 on the Sunday after the Tabs Winter Head. Daniel was off with Rovers. It had been a Dark and Stormy night; Stanage was out, but Chatworth made sense, like last time. It was calm, it was peaceful, it was greasy. We picked up Chris along the way and Karl (not Carl) at the Robin Hood Inn, used my National Trust card for the car park, and walked the few minutes down to the crag. A little muddy underfoot in places, but the path along is fine.

Of the climbing: much the same as last time, so I won't re-describe it. I didn't lead anything today: not quite in the mood, Howard, Chris and Karl quite happy to; and my L shoulder is a little unhappy.

Of the rock: mostly overcast day after rain; the rock is moderately lichenous and so holds the wet, so was quite greasy and not confidence inspiring.

Of the day: lovely. Chatsworth was beautiful, in a deep-leaves-turning-to-mush-in-late-Autumn-wetness kind of way. Perhaps the picture helps explain.



Below left: Karl grins from above at Chris on Emperor Flake Climb because Chris hasn't stepped out for the airy move on the arete and has instead compressed himself into a bizarre and untenable position which is far more awkward than at first appears. Or watch Howard enjoying the step out, and a tight rope. Right: Karl and Chris having topped out of Cave Climb; apologies for the poor-quality pic, the light was low.


Left: Louise wondering if she must follow Howard into the depths of the cave. Right: me relaxing just above the crux on the S 4b layback-y thing and chalking up. Again.


Lastly, no report of climbing with Howard would be complete without the man himself and his performing kneepads; he has a fresh pair for every occasion, these ones are a fetching pink:




However, I should not snark: the state of my tracksters clearly demonstrate use of my knees to a regrettable degree.