The 3000 foot fall

Colin thought he’d better calm the f*** down and take stock. Points of contact first then. Left foot – on a nice little ledge. Right foot – dangling and nowhere to go. Left hand – holding (for dear life) to a nice little jug of an outcrop. Right hand was having a good old slap at the wet rockface. Two ticks then. He thought at this point that he might actually cry. He wasn’t cold yet, but he knew that if he didn’t move – unlikely anytime soon – then he soon would be. Visibility then – he could see the sheer rock face in front of him (great) which seemed to be pushing him away. He dared to look down. He couldn’t see a thing, but he knew that there was around 3000 feet of cold fresh air below his feet. Which could never be good. He wasn’t going to look down again, no way.

He’d managed a couple of cries for help but in this wind it was pointless. Any sounds drifted quickly and horizontally towards the Isle of Man. His mobile was in his rucksack and there’s no way he could reach around and get that out. He wondered why he’d ever leapt onto this ledge. He couldn’t turn around and leap back that’s for sure.

He’d set off climbing up Sharp Edge with Vinny. He’d quickly got left behind - Vinny was ten years younger after all. The rock was like a wet knife edge, so he’d dropped off to the right onto what he thought was a narrow track under the edge but then suddenly he’d run out of road. He was too close to the rock to turn, and he couldn’t see anything ahead of him to jump onto. The soles on his new boots were as slippery as fuck anyway.

The word cragfast popped into his head. Was that an adjective? Petrified would perhaps be more appropriate. Funny how his mind was working. Symptoms of mild hypothermia already perhaps?

What was up above? He wasn’t sure if he dared move his head back away from the rock. He did – but very slowly. Actually, it was only a stretch of about a metre to what looked like a flat top, but no way was he going to try it. Not if it meant taking his left hand away.

Now he really was scared.

He could only hope that Vinny would come back for him. That was a dilemma in itself. He’d had his suspicions about his wife and Vinny for some time but he’d rather live and have it out later than fall and die.

They’d said that they’d meet at that Bad Step place further up and Vinny would have been waiting for perhaps an hour now.

It was at this point he was certain that he was going to die. There was nowhere to go and no-one to hear him. Would Vinny even find him if he did come back.

Will it be the cold that gets me, or will I just slip off?

‘Colin, Colin, you ok down there?’ God, it was Vinny. He’d come back for him. ‘I waited and waited but realised that something must be wrong, so I thought it best to come back. Christ, that was lucky, I just stopped for a drink and noticed the top of your rucksack when the mist cleared for a second. Reach up with your right hand and you can scramble up’. Colin caught a hold of Vinny’s hand with his right, pushed on the jug with his left and scrambled up and turned around. Vinny had knelt down to pick his rucksack back up, so Colin just pushed him in the back. Easy.

‘Shag my wife would you’.

3000 feet of cold fresh air.