By Jamjar


Commando Ridge day and the weather looked fine until the middle of the afternoon so, having hung around for an hour waiting for Mick who then got up and said he wasn't coming, four of us set off. Two others had left earlier and we could see them on the ridge as we got nearer. 

We geared up, stashed our bags and walked up to the start point as it crosses the ridge. Richard climbed down the other side easily. Fi looked over, stepped down and said she couldn't do it. Mary and I had a look and a try and agreed. Richard looked slightly exasperated! So Mary rigged up an abseil and she, then Fi abseiled down the other side ready to walk/scramble down to the start of the route. 

At this point, having become more and more apprehensive about what was to come, I completely bottled out, apologised profusely to the other three, pulled the rope through and took two ropes back with me. They were ok with being a three, if Mick had come there would've been a three and a two anyway so I didn't feel too bad. In fact I felt much better! I took the photo through the gap and packed up.

I ate my sandwiches back at the hut, then took binoculars to the top of Bosigran to follow everyone's progress along the ridge. The first two finished and I walked down to meet them. By this time it was raining quite hard and the cloud was down, so we went back to the Count House to await the others' return.

They walked in about an hour later, tired and drenched. They'd abbed off because the rain was just too much. Fi was ashen faced, she hates traversing and hadn't appreciated how much she'd have to do!

I didn't mind not doing it, it'll still be there. I just felt way too far out of my comfort zone for some reason. There's no doubt in my mind that I'm becoming more cautious, which is perfectly normal as you get older - I'm 68 - but not very helpful when I've only been climbing for 7 years and there's still so much I want to do... damn!

Extra: one of the first pair, waiting to climb.

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