The Rope

1. A Lesson

To prepare for a first, hazardous Cuillin climb, a lesson was necessary.
John White of Ambleside, with a shop selling gear, was the chosen guide.
An entire Spring Saturday.
The morning in the park, explaining the ropes, introducing the spring-gate carabiner, trying on the harness, practicing the knots.
On a crag, where children clamber after swooping down the slide, we practised horizontally the challenges of the vertical.
He identified the perils and risks, more than my imagination had conjured but better to know.
Remember on the abseil, use one arm to slow the rope, friction protection in the eight shaped metal descender.

2. The Climb

To Gimmer Crag, a place I had passed and skirted, never tried.
I had watched other climbers, here and elsewhere, admired their skill, contemplated my fear.
We walked straight up to the foot, no gaps or gullies to escape upwards.
Just a slab and a sky, ignoring, uniquely, the Langdale view
John went first trailing the rope, dancing lightly, holds he knows, disappeared.
Then a shout, a call to begin.
I tried to recall his route, the steps from a simple, steady start.
I reached the crux and then stuck, I could go neither up nor sideways.
Heart raced, pulse pounded, all four limbs trembled, insubstantial.
He pulled and heaved so my arms could stretch to progress.
And got there, through his endeavour and my embarassment of failure.

3. To Fall

Only one way down, flying down the rope, the moment I had dreaded, hoped for, learned and arrived.
I repeated the park crag practice, a huge boulder, solid secure, rope wrapped and tied.
Then to the edge, looked down - much further that way than looking up.
Walked backwards to the place, confident with the knowledge but an unknown, clear either way, result .
A pause, a wait would not enhance my step.
So, over I go, to my mind's front the braking arm's direction, forward and I fall, back and I am saved.
He didn't tell me how the rope would stretch and bounce.
I discovered that myself, in a tiny moment of terror, then another of exhilaration.
After that, my own dance down the face, toes tapped and scratched the granite, a helmeted smile.
A safe arrival, secure ground, achievement.
Life would never be the same, knowing survival and joy, with just one hand on the rope.