If I could prise my hand from its grip on the wee bit of plastic I would be able to look at my watch and tell you it’s 9.05pm. Unfortunately I can’t, or more to the point I won’t. Anyway to read the dial on the watch I would have to open my eyes and that’s not going to happen any time soon. It’s hard to believe I’m in this position but I’m sure I’ll figure out how to get out of it…sometime.
My other hand is also holding on tight to a wee bit of plastic and inside my shoes my wannabe prehensile toes are endeavouring to wrap themselves around similar sticky-out bits. My nose is safely flat against the vertical slab but curiosity gets the better of me and I force myself to open my eyes and look down. I reckon I’m a good 10m off the ground. If I could look behind me, which I may do when hell freezes over, I would be able to see my every move being recorded for posterity for the forthcoming publication “How not to Climb for Dummies”. I’m not sure that leaving the camera in J’s gloating hands was one of my better ideas as I’m sure from my insecure elevated perch I can here the sound of a frantically clicking SLR shutter…or maybe it’s the pages of my life insurance policy flipping over.
I expect most people do a bit of scrambling before they start climbing, but by pandering to the Fatdog’s limitations when it comes to hill walks requiring serious pawholds I’ve found myself skipping that intermediate step and now find myself dangling at the end of a rope well above the floor of the Ratho climbing centre. It would appear I’m getting value for money on my £25 taster session, if you measure such things in terms of shear terror.
Anyway, mustn’t look down again. Fortunately there’s not too many weans to mock me at this time of the evening, but unless someone is able to break my limpit-like grip before closing time I may come face to face with them at opening time tomorrow.
The good news is I’ve learned to climb…half way up the wall. My cowardly brain tells me that attempting the second half could maybe be left for a couple of centuries.