It was raining as we headed to Giants last autumn. Maybe that’s why it was just me and Hazel. Everyone else knew better.
We kitted up in howling wind, and donned SRT kits for what I’d promised would be a “wet” trip.
As we wandered down the entrance, I noticed there was less water than expected, and a look over Garlands pot confirmed it – this would go.
And then I suggested something.
During early lockdown, I’d heard of a boss, mystical place in Giants.
It seemed that it was an open secret, “hidden” in plain sight somewhere. It’s incredible how often you can visit a cave and still walk past important parts.
I saw the line up the first pitch, and started climbing. I got about halfway up and bottled it. I hate soloing. I hate bouldering. This felt all wrong.
I suggested Hazel have a go. She got half the height I did, and then backed off.
I went back up for another go.
With Hazel’s encouragement, 4m above the ground, I bridged out across the void to the other wall. With gear in the rock, I’d be happy with these moves. Soloing it… I was bricking it.
With extensive use of the far wall, and various foot manouvers that suggested I was a lot move confident that I was, I finally got into position, and hit the landing zone. Elated. Surprised. Relieved.
I’d solo’d a ~6m ~Very Severe in wellies, almost onsite. Waaah.
I put in a rope off a handy Natural chockstone, and Hazel SRT’d up.
This is where the beauty started. From here onwards was probably the most beautiful trip in Derbyshire that I’ve ever done, and it started immediately.
The reasons for keeping it difficult to access, and unknown, with walkers, daytrippers, and school groups headed up and down the streamway is very clear.
We headed straight up the pitch – one of the most remarkable SRT pitches I’ve ever done – to a pitch head which is not for people who are afraid of heights (despite being well protected).
(Continued in first comment)
Originally posted on this post on Instagram
