Something I’ve been planning to do for a while, especially considering the weather for most of the last two months has been more than adequate for scruffing around outside. It would have been sooner too, except for my idiocy trashing my knee doing yoga. It seems though if I exercise some restraint and care (harhar) it’s possible to do many of the things that I would normally do for pleasure (for values of pleasure involving some trauma).
I wandered around the corner and around two more to arrive at the path between an old people’s home and some kind of hospital-ish thing where my own personal almost 15 meter long by 6 meter high (I’m very inaccurate at measuring by eye) wall of rough ashlar sandstone. Much sun and occasional passersby wondering what I was doing.
The winter and frost has weakened some of the smaller edges, and being decided careful as well as weak in strength and skin thickness, I didn’t go past the half-way mark – where hard becomes very hard. Still, happy to be back doing this, and really wanting to make this year one where I find some long multi-pitches somewhere remote to wander up.