Arrived at nowhere

Simon heading towards the slab I landed on later,
ripping out what I thought to be a bomber hex, hitting
the slab and flipping upside down en route to landing
on the belay.  At least I held my axes and got down safely.

Jumping out of bed on Sunday for an early start didn't happen.  I did meet Simon on time but was about the last thing that worked out right.

Some things were avoidable: the forgotten head torch, the second attempt at driving up any icy slope, the hex placed sideways.

Other decisions might not have been necessary in different circumstances: should we carry on in the dark?

Whatever decisions that were made during the day all built up to me falling off the last, crux pitch of the route.  Maybe it was just bad luck?  or good luck to get away with just a little chip off my ankle?

or maybe sometimes a few risks have to be taken to get to the top?

As the pub was closed I went to hospital. Then probably the most memorable risk I took on Sunday (3 am Monday actually) was balancing on one leg and a crutch on top of the wall trying to chip the key out of the ice using a fusion by the light of my head torch to get indoors to get some sleep.

A great pitch and all for nothing! (photo Simon Frost)