Gaaaagh!!

Bloody melting yesterday afternoon. Yomped down and up to Ravenstones to vaguely help out with the Moorland Grit guidebook team. Despite this dark, North-facing, shady crag having a seemingly sensible reputation for being cold, the team cunningly persuaded me to climb on the few routes in the evening sun, AND keep my t-shirt on (both factors to do with "good light and colours for photos" or something like that).

The result: much incompetence, weakness, faffing, fingertips boiling in their own micro-pools of sweat, grinding off rounded holds and jams, dismal failure and a lot of swearing. Not my finest moment. In fact one of my un-finest moments for a long while (and this during a summer that has been consistently devoid of fineness).

ARSE.