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first trad fall 21-Jan-2006 At 10:25:48 PM cpt_blasphemy

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I took my first lead fall at CRAIG BWLCH y MOCH near Tremadog in Wales about 6 years ago. The
route, Valerie's Rib, is a classic 3-4 pitch effort with at least a dozen left and right variants on each
pitch. Not to mention a cafe at the bottom of the crag...with a gear shop!

I was climbing in a group of three, and we had been siting on second belay ledge for a while when
another member of the climbing club arrived they preceded to give me the beta on the oft climb right-
right-right hand variant which heads up the main weakness before stepping wayyyyy out to the right to
an exhilarating arête!

The best part they told me, was "it's all the same grade"

Now, I will admit that the route is only HVS, but it was my first day on grit and more importantly HVS
does cover about 3-4 Ewbank grades.

Lets just say that the Right-Right-Right variant was probably closer to 17 then the 14-15 I was
enjoying; to make things slightly more complex it was also a bank holiday and the crag was packed. I
kid you not; at one of the belay ledges there were 5-6 groups of people. Unfortunately, the standard
British demeanour disappears and people quite happily climb over and around you without so much as
a “hallo ole chap!”

So... sufficiently confident and psyched, I headed off on my third ever grit stone pitch; luckily as I
mentioned before this route had a nice little crack, so I wasn't peaking about the whole climbing with
your feet only thing… yet!

I quickly found my way to the stance, before the trip out right, and to my horror stared out at the blank
wall between the arête and me!

Right…

I can do this…

Placed a nice No.5 nut, clipped... breathed...moved.... peaked...backed off!
Breathed again...moved…peaked… backed off! (This may take a while)

I was now, however, growing very aware of the horde of brits lining up behind me, and the fact that I
had two more people to haul up after me. All of which wasn't boding well with "the little voice in my
head", which by this point was not so much a little voice but a full scale Broadway musical!

In my growing state of mind games, I grabbed a micro cam from the rack, stuffed it into the crack, and
headed out in to the wilderness...first move.....second move.......

Why is there a cam swinging around my testicles?
Why am I lower than where I started?

As you may have guessed, both the cam and I popped, and I ended up a good couple of meters below
that lovely nut placement.

I was scared, pumped...and laughing!

The story does have happy ending, after regaining my composure… and the cam, I effortlessly arrived
at the Arête, spent a couple of seconds wondering what all the fuss was about, and preceded to run
out the last part of the climb. I might add, that on the other side of the arête was in fact a thrilling no-
mans-land...nothing but a few tall pine trees and about 200ft to the ground!

The hero of this story spent the night around my neck at the pub, and to this day whenever I place it, it
makes me feel a little bit INVINCIBLE!