gritstone (slight return)
The view from the crag was good. You could sometimes see the cement factory isolated in a sunshine ray. & hand sanitiser, applied in situ, turns out to be just the thing for grit rash. But how hard those easy climbs were! Stanage bites your leg even as it grants you a brief glimpse of the garden you aren’t allowed to enter, not today anyway. (Astonishing to discover recently, by the way, that rock is only a thing & isn’t in any way aware of you; such grim news.) A note about age & the general feeling of being on Peak District Oxford Street when you didn’t expect it: Richard looked around the crag & concluded with the precision of science, “I don’t think us being here has raised the average age much.” So it was an afternoon of spry 70-year-olds, barring one young man dressed immaculately as 1978, right down to a pair of faux EBs. Faux EB man, I salute your passion. Every part of my body hurts.