Ry McHenry
Twilight had set. Two more then we’re going.
Every time I miss the thin ledge, every time. And now dense blue sky pushed around, hiding the ledge, and everything else, but it was wired, it was going.
Greasy pocket to thin ledge. Poor feet. Miss.
It wasn’t going.
Crouch through the jumbled boulders of Buthiers, under the arch and it’s there. Perfect, the magic angle, the compelling point between the extremes. Thin ledges chop the belly of the beast, this is the line.
Last time. Slide through the dark, and it’s there, solid. The lights are on. Gather, this is good. Flow. Steady now, to the scattered light above.
Where? Darkness swirled to my right, erasing even those ugly, luminous chalk stains, it was all trust now. Slap. Pray. Somehow it’s there.
Come on
Yes! It’s done.
Even the twilight had faded now, but something was bright. I was out of the Dark Room.
Ry McHenry Northern Ireland Youth Climbing Team