My Mistress of 22 years spewed her vitriol and tossed me off the wall yesterday. After a monster long fall, followed by a ledge strike, she then flipped me over making me crash into my neck and shoulders. And then as if was not enough she trapped my foot under the very skinny rope and smashed me in the face with my whole remaining rack of nuts and cams that were still on the bandolier.
My left arm felt paralyzed and my right butt cheek felt as if a horse had drop-kicked me over the posts. Above me was the solitary blue cam on a loooong sling that had caught me. Way down and to the left was the last piece of gear, a miniscule green Tricam. Had the blue cam failed I would have fallen at least 50m.
Fortunately, I could right myself and after improving the belay and setting up a lower off Nic came up clearing the gear.
We got down quick and safe and drank some tea while I composed myself for the walk down. My Gluteus Maximus on the right was tight and painful making walking down tricky as I could not control my leg very well. It was soon dark and at the one point where there is a fairly high boulder my consort bitch decided to hurl me down again.
Twice in one day!
This time she spared my butt but dumped me onto my chest directly onto a rock and sliced open my elbow.
I am not sure which fall was worse, the 8m butt strike or the 2m rib strike.
Miraculously my ribs, back and neck were all fine. No broken bones and no sprained joints.
My other partner of 35 years, my first wife, did what she does best. She threatened to ground me from visiting my mistress for at least a year if I displayed any impairment or disability or if I whinged or whined. Pills were forced down my throat chased down with good red wine, I was (force) fed and then relegated to the bath where the blood was soaked off and steri-strips and dressings applied to my elbow wound. Duncan my 17 year old boulderer son carefully scrutinized me for damage and came up with the fact that there was a long wayward hair that I had missed shaving on my upper lip and that was the only thing worthy of consideration.
I was threatened with banishment from the bed room if I blood let onto the sheets!
The next morning the 5h15 alarm hustled me off to shuffle to the kitchen to make coffee with foamed milk trying very hard not to groan and whine.
2 Hours later and off I had to go and fetch a load of wood for her fire.
So, what did I do to deserve the scorn of my not-so-clandestine paramour? I suppose I need to refresh my Shakespeare to get to the bottom of this. In all these years she has never been so brutal.
I have stroked every ripple and groped every bulge and sampled her every crack. I have never been anything but kind to her, gentle and loving. So, what provoked her so? She can’t be jealous of my first wife who graciously permits me visitation rights as often as once a week.
On reflecting, I think I now know the answer.
It is my 8th foray to try and fashion a route that started in 2008 with the bolting of the Down Time Abseil route. The first half of Up Time to the Halfway ledge is done and it is stellar with the final pitch to the ledge being the finest of its kind I have ever climbed. There are not many options to continue from the Halfway ledge and having tried one trad option Nic Van Doesburgh and I started up the German route, Your Mother His Face from the Halfway Ledge. We both found the start brick hard and even needed a stick clip for the first bolt. From there the route follows a line of fixed gear, bolts and pegs and I was leading the second pitch when I deviated to the right to get back to the Down Time line. I tested a dodgy looking hand hold about 3 metres above my blue cam that sounded solid and that was when I was lobbed off pulling a good chunk of Yellowwood quartzite with me.
In all the years that I have climbed at Yellowwood I have never placed a fixed peg or bolt on a route. Maybe this is what evoked her wrath. She wants to keep our relationship pure, traditional and natural.
Problem now is that the option to the right would be crazy shit scary and dangerous without a bolt and the option to the left that I did previously would cross the German’s route and also end in crazy scary no man’s land.
I guess the best option is to settle for Half Time. Afterall, most really good mediocre climbers will not be able to do much more than this in a given day considering how taxing the second, third and fifth pitches are. It makes for a beast of a route with a quick and safe descent from the Halfway Ledge and can be done before it gets too hot.
Thinking about it, I guess my mistress could have broken my hip, crushed my vertebrae, bashed in my skull or fractured my ribs or smashed my cell phone in my pocket. Or even have pulled out the blue cam and sent me plummeting for ever with an even bigger spanking.
All I got to show for it is some scratches, bruises, aching ribs and butt and a small hole at my elbow.
The warning shots have been fired!
Time to Chill!