The Redpath and I began our spring pilgrimage to the spiritual home of mica schist roof crimping; The Anvil. The atlantic finally struck back at the high pressure which has given us such unaturally gorgeous weather for over 2 weeks. Normal Scottish service was resumed with drizzle, damp, wind and cold. Even still, the Anvil was inspiring, and still bone dry. The angle of rain attack was such that even the less steep sections avoided the wet (just) and a wee project I bolted up last year could be dispatched. My first redpoint didn't go so well; at the crucial moment as I lurched for the finishing jug a gust blew a big faceful of rain in my face (Ah now thats Scottish sport climbing fur ye!) and I went flying. Next time, I reached the belay and another Anvil 7c was born. Those of you who have been on the routes will know what 'Anvil 7c' means.
The rest of the day was spent refamiliarising myself with the the line formerly known as 'project mcfuck'. Now that its secrets have been revealed it might have to be demoted to 'project a wee bit nippy' at a mere 8c. Once again I was noticing the absense of my lost half stone, and the holds were feeling a touch bigger than last September. The psyche is on.
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