Stuart spoke of this line a few years ago - "it goes up the arch, it's super steep, Andy Cave did it". The vision that popped into my head was of Andy Cave, biceps bulging, hooking his way up the inside of the dome of some cathedral. I thought I'd give it a miss.

A few seasons later I saw an article about it and actually read the route description (something I am often remiss at doing). The route didn't climb up the arch, but rather under it. A sterling adventure lay in wait. I'm not sure who persuaded whom, but the choice of route was obvious that morning. I had even prepared for the gruelling nature of the climb - I'd bought a sachet of power gel! Unfortunately someone was in front and heading to the foot of oor climb.

Surprise, surprise it was someone that Stuart knew (Stuart knows everyone!) and they were heading for Crypt route. This was not good news, as our route left Crypt after pitch 1. We would wait.

Stuart's pals were not in a hurry.

F*** it. We scrambled up to the foot of the route, on the way an obvious parallel groove to the left looked like it would go. We decided to nip in front, and as they were pals, it didn't even feel rude (at the time anyway). Stuart set off climbing making good progress. He explains:

On the first pitch of Un Poco Loco, after climbing up steep twin cracks, I came to an abrupt halt beneath a buldge leading to the belay ledge.
After trying several ways, couldn't pull through, 'Andy I think I'm beaten here'
'Pull the trigger', came the reply from below. Andy had read this phrase in some climbing magazine and in his typical wisdom decided to use it on me.
It worked, my tools stuck, monos on dime edges, sent it!

Climbing up to the belay I realised why Stuart had faltered, and that this was the best possible start to the route - what a pitch - magic! The next bit looked familiar, but it was a bit steeper than in the picture.

A wee traverse led to the steep bit, I decided to ignore the exposure until right at the top of the first crack when my 'Elvis leg' reminded me. Funny how all your gear turns to pish when the leg shakes start. I pulled through and breathed again. I wasn't even a third up the pitch. The next slabby groove looked thrutchy in a muscle draining way. Various improvised upward movements were necessary including, every conceivable pick jam, hand jam, shoulder scum and knee push. It was quite involving. I became lodged a couple of metres from the top of the groove. The next move was hard. After fannying about for quite some time I put the shaft or my tool into the crack and twisted it so the wee plastic finger guard jammed. It flexed alarmingly. I pulled anyway and it was enough to reach the top of the crack. I was now lodged in a new position directly under a roof. The route was not obvious. Communication with Stuart was essential.

"F*** me, I'm gubbed Stuart, I think I've gone too high and I can't get back down"

Stuart read the description and it became obvious that a leftward traverse had been passed. The subsequent traverse was blank, but had to be done. Cold sweat material! The new groove still had two corners to climb to an overhung finish. I assessed the rack.

Mmmm, no extenders, a few wires and two pegs - great!

The choice had already been made for me, I didn't have the gear or space to belay, I'd have to continue. The next two corners were not as difficult and I actually began to enjoy myself again. One of my pegs was tailor made for the lip of the corner and 'thank-god turf' led to the belay.

My few wires fitted and I started to bring Stuart up. I remembered the Carbo gel - a bit too late, I felt totally F***ed! When Stuart reached the belay he had a strange far away look in his eyes, a look I'd never seen before on bubbly, chatty Stuart. It was a mirror image of the look on my face - we were both drained and close to tears.

At this point I was really glad to be partnering Stuart, because when the chips are down he always pulls it out the bag. He said he would carry on up the next pitch (which looked like a desperate, blank wall) because he knew that if he didn't I would (the thought could not have been further from my mind - I was for escaping off flake route which I'd done a couple of times before). This sentiment forged my resolve and I couldn't have been happier.

The wall was short and steep, but lacking in protection - Stuart is very good at rationalising such minor inconveniences. He was up and the route was almost in the bag. Almost - because the grade III ground at the top was nearly the scene of derailment as I locked off above a bulge and didn't have the power to remove my tools. Much floundering and swearing with tears close again found us at the top.

Un Poco Loco is the hardest route I've done. It's also the best climb I've done, not because of its difficulty but because I had 100% confidence in our partnership to deal with anything it could throw at us - now that sounds like a teacher talking!

(10/06)